


Read Between the Lines

by tinypinkmouse



Category: Naruto, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Drama, Family, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationship, Minor Character Death, Other, Pre-Canon, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypinkmouse/pseuds/tinypinkmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it's alright to take what you can, when you can. It isn't perfect, it might be wrong, but soon enough you'll end up alone anyway. (Series of loosely connected ficlets.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing At All Happens

**Author's Note:**

> This is really a series of fics/ficlets, but it's easier to post them as chapters to one story. So, rating, content, quality, length, pov and whatever else you can think of may vary. Oh and also, most of this was written before I watched any Supernatural. I still haven't really gotten to Naruto.

**Nothing At All Happens,**   
_and Dean meets a ninja_

Dean Winchester never talked all that much about his life. For one thing, most people wouldn't have believed him anyway and those who did usually didn't belong to the type that believed in the whole "sharing is caring" thing. Dean sure didn't. That's the way most hunters lived and Dean had been one his whole life. He'd never known how to be anything else.

And that made the whole thing worse really. He hunted monsters as a way of life. The whole thing was just embarrassing, he damn well knew how to take care of himself.

No. Dean didn't talk about his life much, because besides his dad and his brother there'd never been anyone to talk to anyway and he'd just never been raised that way (and he had to wonder where Sammy got it from). This thing was special though. It was something Dean _did not talk about._ Ever. In fact he didn't even think about it. As far as he was concerned it never happened.

It was embarrassing and if Dean's thoughts somehow accidentally strayed toward the thing, which they didn't because it never happened, but if they did then he told himself that that was the reason he'd never mentioned the thing. Because it was god damned embarrassing. And no one needed to know.

It had all happened not too long after Sammy's fight with their dad. Because everything had been fucked up after that. It hadn't even been on a hunt, because that would have made it at least understandable. But no, it had all happened because Dean had gone out for a few drinks, hustle some money, pick up some girl, that sort of thing. And of course that was no reason to let down his guard, which he hadn't. Because Dean wasn't stupid. Trust no one, that's how a hunter survives.

Maybe part of the problem was that he was so used to looking out for the supernatural that he forgot to be afraid of the things that weren't. Oh, he'd been in enough bar brawls and such in his time to know that something completely mundane could hurt him just as well as something supernatural. But it wasn't the same thing. After seeing the things he had, some regular guy just didn't feel that threatening.

He never found out exactly what happened. Maybe someone slipped something into his drink, because it was all kind of fuzzy. One way or the other though, Dean had found himself unconscious, well more like he'd found himself waking up from unconsciousness, but still.

Dean had blinked and squinted and groaned and tried to move just to find out that he wasn't going anywhere, because he was bound hand and foot and whoever had done it knew damn well what they'd been doing. No, Dean was lying sideways on an ugly comforter on a lumpy motel bed (there was no way Dean didn't recognise a motel room when he saw one) and he was going exactly nowhere.

He couldn't see who was in the room with him. If it wasn't for the sound of someone breathing he could as well have been alone. Tied up, helpless on a bed. And he was sure he could turn around if he tried hard enough.

"What the fuck do you want?" He tried to spit out angrily, but it came out too slurred to sound right. It'd do though.

He felt the bed dip under another person's weight and struggled to turn around, to move, to do something. Anything.

A knife blade pressed against Dean's throat and he stopped moving. Someone chuckled behind him. It sounded male and far too close. He felt a hand pull at his hair, until his head tilted backwards leaving his throat completely exposed.

He still couldn't see the bastard.

After a moment the knife moved away from his throat. Dean did his best to get his fuzzy brain to cooperate and think of a way to get him the fuck out of there.

He heard the sound of something being ripped and at first he didn't realise at all what it was. But soon enough it was only too obvious that the bastard was using the knife to cut away his shirt.

Then the hand left his hair. Hands pulled away the tattered remains of his shirt. He flinched as they touched his bare skin. He swore, but his tongue didn't move like it should.

The man was breathing heavily and the sound seemed to drown out every other noise.

The hands moved lower. Grasped his jeans and Dean cursed and tried to fucking well kick him, but it didn't quite work. Because he was fucking helpless.

And that damned ripping noise again as the fabric of his jeans tore under the knife. Dean found himself wishing he'd worn boxers and it was such a stupidly useless thought that for a moment he felt like laughing.

He trashed and cursed and it all amounted to nothing as the hands seemed to be everywhere. And why the fuck didn't he say anything. Only breathing, panting and Dean's slurred curses.

There was a swish of quiet movement and then suddenly the hands were gone and everything was completely silent.

A car drove past outside.

Dean recognised the noise of a body falling to the ground.

He felt the bonds on his wrists give away and less than a heartbeat later his legs were free as well. Dean scrambled out of the bed, stumbling over the tattered remains of his jeans, still clinging to his ankles. He turned around to face whatever was behind him, backing away until he could feel the wall behind his back. And not a moment too soon because his vision was swimming and his legs were shaking and the wall was probably the only thing keeping him up.

He blinked and tried to focus his eyes. A pale, black haired teenager was standing on the other side of the bed, bangs falling into his face. Irrationally all Dean could think at the moment was that the kid looked too damn pretty.

"He's dead," the kid said tonelessly.

Dean blinked. He looked downward and could just see a hand sprawl out from behind the bed, but the bed blocked his view of anything else.

The next thing he knew he was sitting in a heap on the floor, the wall obviously not having been enough to keep him up anymore.

"Alright," Dean mumbled. "Fuck."

The kid was suddenly standing in front of him, dark eyes peering into his. Fuck, he should have been paying more attention. The kid sighed, looking vaguely irritated before flipping open a cell phone that had appeared in his hand. He spoke a few quick words in a language Dean didn't know.

"A… friend is going to bring clothes and transportation," the kid explained. And this time Dean distantly noticed that his speech was slightly accented. The kid would have sounded cute if his inflection hadn't been about as varied as a robot's.

"Thanks," Dean whispered. He was getting kind of cold. He was shivering, wasn't he?

He wasn't sure how much time passed before a blond just as young as the other kid bounced into the room. He wasn't quite as too pretty as the other kid, but made it up by being too energetic.

The blond asked something Dean didn't understand, again. There was a one word answer that must have been either a yes or a no, but there wasn't any hope of figuring it out by that tone.

The blond kid crouched down in front of Dean and he looked up into the most brilliantly blue eyes he'd ever seen. The kid smiled kindly.

"Here." He said offering Dean a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "You can shower after we get you away from here."

Dean stared at the offered clothing. Shower. Maybe that'd help. He thought he could still feel hands on him.

He noticed that the two kids were occupied with looking at something on the other side of the bed. Dean pulled on the clothes as fast as possible, which wasn't very fast at all under the current circumstances.

"Ah," the blond said. "Good, you're done." And Dean was right the accent did sound cute when there was actual inflections in the tone of voice. "Come on then."

Dean followed the two kids to a car waiting outside, without giving the motel room a single backwards glance. For a moment he hesitated outside the car, instincts flaring up.

_Don't get into a car with strangers. _He snorted and tried not to laugh.

"You're shaking," the blond kid observed. "We should hurry and get you in a warm shower."

Dean crawled into the backseat of the car.

"I'm driving, bastard," he heard the blond say.

"Fine."

"You don't even know how to drive a car," the blond added as he sat into the drivers seat.

"Neither do you, idiot." The car doors slammed shut.

"Well, I know more than you. I got the car here, didn't I?" The engine started with a few hiccups.

"I'm glad I wasn't here for that," the dark haired kid said dryly as the car started moving.

"Bastard," the blond growled.

And it wasn't really familiar, but it was close enough and Dean felt himself slipping into sleep.

When he finally saw his dad again after that Dean never told him where he'd been for five days. "Out." He just said, when his dad asked. And it was left at that. His dad made his assumptions and Dean never corrected him. It wasn't mentioned again, and why would it have, because it wasn't really that special. It wasn't like his dad hadn't been away doing whatever for three of those five days anyway.

And Sammy wasn't there to ask, 'cause Sammy had left and wasn't coming back.

So nothing had happened. Because Dean Winchester didn't get into trouble he couldn't handle and he sure as heck didn't get rescued by kids that looked maybe fifteen if he was feeling generous. That would have been embarrassing as hell.

Most of all Dean Winchester didn't get afraid, not the mind numbingly terrifying kind of afraid anyway. Because he was Dean Winchester, he was a hunter and he damn well knew how to take care of himself. It was a good thing then that nothing special had happened.

And if he woke up shaking from a nightmare every now and then. Well, Dean had seen a fair share of things that would cause anyone nightmares. He'd ignore them just like he always did.


	2. Hot Showers and the Colour Orange

**Hot Showers and the Colour Orange,**  
_Out of sight out of mind_

By now the hot water had numbed his skin. He turned the heat up even more. For a moment it felt scalding, but soon it was only warm again. He shivered and tried turning the heat up, but it was already as hot as it would get.

He'd already used about half a bottle of soap in an attempt to get clean.

White scratches stood out against the redness. As if he'd been trying to scratch of his skin. Maybe he had. Or maybe he'd been a bit too thorough with the scrubbing.

It didn't matter. The water wasn't hot enough. And there was no way he could wash himself clean enough.

He closed his eyes and turned his face into the spray of water. He held his breath for a moment.

Finally he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. The bathroom was filled with steam.

There was a large white and extremely fluffy towel waiting for him, together with a new set of sweatpants and t-shirt.

He hadn't even heard anyone bring them into the bathroom.

The fluffy towel was nice. The kind of nice Dean wasn't used to. The sort of nice that reminded him of normal. Reminded him of mom.

Dean didn't live a life that had large, white and fluffy towels.

Eventually he picked up the new clothes. He wondered briefly what had happened to the previous set. It didn't really matter.

Dean pulled the clothing on, trying not to look at them too much. He was grateful for the change of clothes really, but _orange_. Really. At least the pants only had two orange stripes running down their sides and were otherwise black. The shirt was completely orange.

The two kids had both been a head shorter than him and since the clothes fit Dean fine enough that meant that one of them had to have gone out of their way to find him orange clothes at… whatever time it was.

He didn't know. Didn't know how long it had been since… since anything.

He slammed a shaking palm into the nearest wall.

_Damn it._

Dean took in a shaky breath. He was fine. Of to meet the natives.

He stepped out of the bathroom. The floor felt cold against his bare feet.

"Nice," he said under his breath as he took in the room. He hadn't really looked before, only vaguely noticed that it seemed to be on the more expensive side before he'd been steered to the bathroom. It felt like ages ago.

There had been a doorman, hadn't there. Dean had still been kind of groggy.

The room was nice in the expensive sort of way. It was that whole open concept thing. Living room and kitchen all in the same big room. All chrome, black, white and red. So modern it almost hurt. He was pretty sure that the whole entertainment system was if not completely state of the art, then at least pretty damn close.

The blond kid from earlier was lying on his stomach on the floor of the living room side of the place. There were papers scattered in a semi-circle around him. The kid turned his head to look at Dean.

"It came like this," the kid grinned. Dean didn't think the kid could have heard his comment, he was too far away and Dean hadn't been very loud. But then the look he'd given the room probably said enough.

At lest Dean was pretty sure who had decided he needed to wear orange. He hadn't been paying enough attention earlier if he'd missed the fact that the kid was wearing a glaringly orange t-shirt. Or maybe he'd changed as well.

"The bastard says that I clash with the colours," the blond continued as he sat up. "I think orange and red look good together, it's like fire or... autumn leaves. And he really shouldn't be talking, at least I never dressed to match with the old pervert. That's just creepy. Well at least he made it look a bit better than the snake bastard. But that guy criticising anyone's choice in clothing…" the kid snorted. "And what's wrong with orange anyway? It's a happy colour." The last bit was said slightly quieter. "Isn't it?"

Dean stared at the blond for a moment. "Sure."

That seemed to be enough of an answer as the blond gave him a brilliant smile. "So," he cocked his head sideways and gave Dean a questioning look. "What do you want to do now?"

Dean just looked at him. He probably should have thought about that.

"Sit down at least," the blond told him and pointed at the black couch not far from himself.

It seemed like a good enough idea.

"You can stay here if you want to." The blond continued as Dean padded across the room toward the couch. "We're not going to throw you out now." There was a strange emphasis on the 'now'. "You probably don't want to sleep. You can if you want to, the couch is pretty comfortable." It was really, Dean found out as he sat down. Definitely more comfortable than some beds he'd slept in. And bigger. "It's going to be morning soon." The blond tilted his head a bit backward, so he was looking up at Dean's face. He seemed to be thinking about something. "There's food if you're hungry and…" he scratched his neck. "There's tv and maybe some books?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. "Or you could leave."

The kid smiled questioningly and waited. It took Dean a moment to realise that the whole thing had been some kind of question. He still felt tired and… he was too tired to want to think about what he should do next. He should find his things, call dad. Who was probably still on a hunt and he really shouldn't bother him.

Besides there was something off about the kids. The other one had… had…

…_a limp hand poking out from behind the bed…_

Dean shook his head. The kids had been… helpful. And Dean could be careful. He was just too… tired, to make any decisions right now.

"I could… watch some tv. I guess."

The blond smiled again, blue eyes shining happily. Was it normal for anyone to be that cheerful without the help of some kind of chemicals?

"The remote is right there," he said, pointing at the couch, not far from were Dean was. He seemed about to turn back to his papers. "Oh, I almost forgot…" he said sheepishly and gave a lopsided grin. "I'm Naruto. The bastard, who's sleeping right now," there was a nod toward a screen that probably hid what constituted a bedroom, "is Sasuke. He's a bit grumpy in the mornings so don't mind him when he wakes up."

Dean nodded in answer. "Dean," he said quietly and was rewarded with yet another brilliant smile.

"Nice to meet you. Oh, and if you change your mind about… well, anything, just tell me. We did pick up some of your things, so you'll probably want those if you decide to leave."

The kid… Naruto turned around and seemed to be looking intently at some of the papers.

And it hadn't occurred to him to tell Dean that last part earlier?

Maybe he should ask where they were keeping them? At least his phone. It was good to know that they didn't seem to care about it all that much though.

Dean reached for the remote control.

Turning the sound down, someone was sleeping and he was the guest, he settled on re-runs of Star Trek. Not exactly something he'd usually watch, but it seemed like a good choice.

Naruto muttered something in a foreign language. On the tv Scotty quietly complained about not having enough time to fix something or other.

Soon Dean was finding it hard to keep his eyes open.


	3. Steel an Song

**Steel an Song**,  
_A hunter by any other name_

It's only a dream. He knows it's only a dream. He knows.

He still can't open his eyes.

He's not even sleeping anymore. He's not.

He still can't wake up.

Hands are wandering all over him, creeping over his skin and he tries to yell. He tries, but no sound comes out.

He just needs to open his eyes. Open his eyes and everything will be alright.

He just needs to see, to make sure. He just has to open his eyes.

He can't. There's just darkness and the hands are _everywhere_.

Then he hears it. It doesn't belong and it's too strange not to notice.

It sounds like singing. He tries to listen to it, to make sense of it. It's soft and quiet.

That's when he hears it, the harsh scraping sound. A steady rhythm. Over and over.

He knows that sound. Has heard it so many times before. Would recognise it anywhere.

Steel on whetstone.

And under it a voice still sings softly in words he doesn't know.

He lets himself sink deeper into darkness.

* * *

Dean woke up. He was lying on his stomach, his head buried in a soft pillow. His head was pounding. He reached under the pillow, searching for the knife he always kept there.

Nothing.

His eyes flew open, panic flaring at the edges of his mind. With a twist of his body he sat up in a hurry and… The black and red apartment surprised Dean enough that he actually calmed down. His head was throbbing and even the relatively muted light of the apartment felt like it was slicing into his eyes. The place was so different from any place Dean was used to waking up in that he didn't have any trouble at all realising where he was. And why.

He really wished he had the knife. A gun would definitely have been even better, but the gun was in the Impala and he'd probably have to count the knife that'd been tucked into his boot as a loss. Dean also wouldn't have said no to some sort of painkiller and maybe a toothbrush.

He gave the room a once over, while keeping one eye on the dark haired kid that had replaced the blond one. Instead of sitting on the floor with papers scattered around him, this kid was sitting with his back to the wall and a whole lot of sharp and pointy things were neatly spread around him. Now that wasn't at all as reassuring as someone who was surrounded by a bunch of papers, but both were still stupidly familiar to Dean. Even though neither kid was exactly what Dean was used to.

There weren't any guns at all. Dean did recognise most of the stuff, sort of, but mostly they weren't weapons Dean was used to anyone actually using. Come on, Dean knew his way around blades; knives, axes, machetes, that kind of stuff. But a sword, friggin' throwing stars and were those actual needles? Okay, so Dean couldn't deny that the weapons had a certain inherent coolness, but he hadn't come across anything that needed to be taken down with throwing stars yet.

He bet he could think of something, because _throwing stars_. Silver ones could be handy, maybe.

Different as the weapons were, Dean had been caring for his own for a very long time and for dad's before that. So yeah, it wasn't hard to tell what the kid was doing. Right now, he was sharpening something that looked like a knife… well some kind of knife definitely.

The kid wasn't looking at what he was doing, his eyes were looking straight at Dean. Fair enough really, since Dean was looking right back.

It was probably too much to hope for that the kid hadn't seen Dean scramble to get up and most likely looking anything but cool.

Dean took a steady breath and leaned back on the couch. A red blanket slipped quietly from the couch and fell down to the ground. One of the kids must have gotten it for him after he fell asleep.

Did Naruto's warning about this kid being grumpy in the mornings have anything to do with the amount of blades spread around him? Because these kids definitely weren't giving him the 'normal and well adjusted' kind of vibes. It probably wasn't even morning anymore and Dean didn't feel up to being stabbed with anything right then.

"Sasuke, right?" Dean let his lips turn up a bit at the edges as he looked at the kid.

"Hn." The expression stayed the same and he kept on sharpening the knife. Dean decided to take it as agreement.

"You're keeping watch," Dean told Sasuke. "Of me." He felt stupidly reassured by stating the obvious, like it'd make everything suddenly make more sense. It really didn't.

"Hn."

Metal scraped against stone.

"So do the chicks dig that silent, mysterious thing you've got going there? 'Cause I gotta tell you man, it ain't doing nothing for me." Definitely not the smartest thing he could have said to a teenager holding a knife, but it'd begged to get said.

The kid stayed silent. The knife was starting to look plenty sharp and Dean kind of hoped that the kid had some sense of humour at least. Sasuke put down the knife and picked up another, quietly starting to sharpen the new knife.

Dean wasn't even sure the kid had heard him, which might have been a good thing. But in that case the kid would have had to be deaf, which seemed kind of far fetched.

"Well I guess you're pretty enough that you don't need to talk."

There was a very small hitch in the steady rhythm of metal against stone. Definitely not deaf then. It was true too, Sasuke was ridiculously pretty and he had emo-hair. It needed to be made fun of. Really, the kid wouldn't throw that knife at him. Probably.

"Where's the blond kid anyway?"

Well that question should be safe enough. Nothing insulting in that. Dean wouldn't really mind if Naruto showed up right about now, emo-hair over there was starting to seem a bit twitchy, in a quiet, blank sort of way.

"Sleeping."

"Aw, you managed a word."

Dean shifted a bit on the couch, trying to make it look casual instead of nervous. Because he wasn't nervous at all. He just felt like moving.

"You are taking turns watching me, aren't you?"

That was sort of obvious. Sleeping in shifts? Yeah, they were so keeping an eye on him. Dean got not trusting a stranger, it was like the Winchester family motto or something. He would have felt a lot more gratified about meriting constant supervision if he hadn't come of about as threatening as a wet blanket so far and that meant they probably had some other reason for keeping an eye on him.

Dean still didn't know who… what… last night… He didn't know why he was there. This whole thing could have been some giant conspiracy to get Dean to trust these kids. Okay, that sounded paranoid as hell, but in Dean's experience weird teenagers didn't just show up to rescue him from danger. Well unless the kid in question happened to be called Winchester in which case… well, okay it had happened once. Or twice.

Shit. Dean was almost wishing they just thought he was going to have some sort of freak out and they didn't want to leave him alone. Obviously the kids were deluded, because Dean was fine, but it was better than them being some sort of monsters. Dean had no problems wasting any evil sons of bitches that came his way, but he didn't want these kids to fall into that category. But Dean knew better than to expect random helpful strangers when usually evil monsters were more likely.

Sasuke didn't answer him. In fact as far as Sasuke was concerned Dean might as well not exist.

Emo-hair definitely wasn't doing a very good job at selling the nice and trustworthy angle. Naruto had been better at it. At least Sasuke didn't really look like he wanted to eat Dean or anything. Okay, maybe Sasuke looked like he wouldn't mind a bit of maiming, but the dude was probably just a bit annoyed.

If this was some sort of scheme to win Dean's trust for some strange reason Dean couldn't figure out, it was a damn convoluted one. Monsters usually went for the kill on sight thing.

Well, fuck it. His head hurt too much to make sense of all this shit and besides Dean wasn't just going to sit there and wait for the kid to say something.

He stood up. The kid kept on sharpening his little knife.

"I'm going to take a piss." Dean stated defiantly. The words hung awkwardly in the silence.

Whatever. He got up from the couch and headed to the bathroom. He tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on his back. When he opened the bathroom door he gave a casual glance back, Sasuke was looking down at the sword in his hands and wasn't paying any attention to Dean at all.

Nope. Dean didn't feel awkward at all.

It wasn't until the bathroom door closed that Dean felt himself relax a bit, which was kind of stupid since it didn't really change anything. Hell, the kid shouldn't have unnerved him as much as he did in the first place. Dean hunted real live, or undead or whatever, monsters on regular basis for fuck's sake.

Dean lifted the cover on the toilet seat, with a bit more force than was actually needed and pulled out his dick from the borrowed sweatpants, looking down at it held in his hand. The next thing Dean knew he was standing with his back against the wall, his palms pressed flat against the tiled surface at either side of him. He was panting, almost choking on the frantic pulls of air. His dick was hanging stupidly out of the sweatpants.

Fuck. Just, _fuck._

Dean closed his eyes and forced his breaths to slow. After a while he managed to peel his palms away from the wall.

Right, that… yeah. That hadn't actually happened. Dean didn't freak over looking… touching… right. So not going there. Determinedly he took his dick in hand again and took care of business without any god damn problems.

There was another ridiculously fluffy towel neatly folded next to the sink and by the still packaged toothbrush set on top of it Dean went ahead and assumed it was for him.

He'd just take a very quick shower.

When he got out of the bathroom, he felt better. At least the headache wasn't quite so bad anymore. Naruto had made an appearance during the time he'd spent in there and the kid looked none too happy about it. The blond was perched on the side of the couch, somehow still managing to look like he was slouching. To Dean's horrified disgust the kid was actually wearing orange pyjamas, with some sort of black figures on them and Dean was too far away to see what they were and, somehow, that was just fine by him.

Considering Dean was still wearing the hideously orange t-shirt that had been left for him yesterday… uh… earlier today? Dean really was beginning to sense a theme here and it was nothing good. No matter what Naruto thought there was nothing good about orange.

Dean stopped a few steps out of the bathroom. He really didn't now what the heck he was supposed to do now. Tell them thanks and leave? Actually that didn't sound like a bad idea.

Naruto turned his head toward Dean and the grumpy look turned into a smile. "The bastard here made me get up," Naruto said and gave a brief sideways scowl to the apparently oblivious Sasuke who was calmly cleaning his sword. "He woke me up because he says it's my turn to make lunch. Can you believe it?" He gave Dean a look that expected Dean to agree that this was obviously a horrible injustice, but he went on before Dean actually had time to say anything. "It so isn't. I made lunch yesterday," Naruto finished with an accusing glare at Sasuke.

"Ramen doesn't count, idiot."

"How can you say that bastard?" Naruto wailed, looking horrified at Sasuke's impassive words. "Ramen is the best food in the world. In any world. It's awesome." Naruto waived his hands in the air enthusiastically to emphasise his point, leaning forward until it looked like he was about to fall off the couch.

"Do you know how little nutritional value it has?"

"But it tastes great."

The argument made Dean feel a bit better about the kids. It seemed… normal and he didn't think they were faking it. Why would anyone bother to fake a stupid argument about ramen?

"No wonder you were always so small," Sasuke retorted with a snort.

"Hey, at least my hair never looked like a duck's butt."

Dean wasn't sure when Sasuke went from calmly polishing his very cool sword to glaring back at Naruto, but he definitely was doing it now and his grip on the sword had turned into something a lot more businesslike.

Well, they weren't actually going to get violent, right? Because Dean didn't have any weapons on him and he had no plans on getting between the two if they did. Getting skewered was nowhere in Dean's plans for the day.

"No, yours just looked ridiculous."

"At least it isn't pink, or grey." There was an odd note to Naruto's voice, but at least the sudden hostility was gone. Naruto settled a bit, his seat on the couch looking firmer.

"There is that," Sasuke answered and Dean was surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. "Now go make lunch," Sasuke said, his gaze settling back on his sword. "And no ramen," he added as Naruto grumblingly (and disturbingly elegantly) propelled himself over the back of the couch.

"Bastard," Dean heard Naruto mutter as he turned his back on Sasuke.

Dean was expecting the now almost familiar 'idiot' to come from Sasuke, but that wasn't what happened. Naruto couldn't see and even though Dean had a pretty good view of Sasuke he still didn't have time to get a word out, the kid was just too fast. In one quick movement Sasuke had snatched one of the knives of the floor and thrown it toward Naruto's unsuspecting back.

Dean was about to take a step towards Naruto, was opening his mouth to warn him and… then it was over. The knife was spinning _on Naruto's finger_ from the loop on one end and Naruto was grinning as broadly as ever, half turned back toward Sasuke.

Dean wasn't sure what had happened. Obviously Naruto had _caught_ the knife. Like with a hand and not his back and that was totally cool in that Naruto wasn't currently bleeding to death on the floor, but no one moved that fast. No one.

Naruto let the spinning die down and chucked the knife back toward Sasuke and not in a friendly, careful way, but very much with the business end first, if it hits you it's going to hurt sort of way. Dean wasn't really surprised when instead of hitting Sasuke in the eye (like it pretty much looked like it was about to), the knife instead ended up spinning on Sasuke's finger. Really, he wasn't.

"Eh, Dean," Naruto looked towards him, a hand on the back of his head. "Do you want to help with lunch? I'm really not that good at making anything but ramen."

That was Dean's cue to shrug it off, say yes and go make lunch and pretend everything was just peachy. Honestly, that's what he'd been doing this far, wasn't it? If dad ever found out Dean would deserve the chewing out he'd get. He was a Winchester damn it, and there was no fucking way he could just ignore what was right in front of him.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Dean demanded, feeling a whole lot less confident than he sounded, standing barefooted in his orange and black t-shirt and sweatpants ensemble and completely without any sort of weapons. "Because that shit just ain't normal," he nodded toward Sasuke and while he really meant the knife dangling from the kid's finger, the gesture took in both of the kids, which worked just as well. "And you two sure as fuck are nowhere close to normal."

Dean noticed Naruto looking at Sasuke. He saw Sasuke give Naruto a bland look, shrug and go right back to checking his weapons like nothing at all had happened.

Naruto turned to look at Dean with a very big dopey sort of grin. "We're super awesome ninja."

Dean blinked. That was… not the answer he'd expected. "Ninja?" He echoed in a tone that was totally supposed to imply the 'dude, do you seriously think I'll believe that?' that Dean couldn't quite get out at the moment.

Obviously Naruto didn't quite catch that, because he just grinned and nodded. "Yes. We shouldn't really tell civilians about it if they don't already know, or if it isn't part of the mission, because it's secret, you know." Naruto's smile faltered slightly at his next words. "But it doesn't really matter now."

"I'm not a civilian," Dean blurted out, because obviously _that_ was the thing to get hung up on in that stupidly ridiculous story.

Naruto cocked his head and frowned a bit. "Dean-san," he said, more hesitant than he'd been before, like he was trying not to offend Dean or something. "You are. If you aren't a ninja, then you're a civilian." The 'and you're no ninja' was left unsaid, but Dean still thought that was probably what Naruto had been aiming at. Dean thought it was kind of unfair. Seriously, Naruto hadn't been displaying any awesome ninja skills, well except for that knife catching bit maybe, but the kid wore orange for god's sake. Orange was not a ninja colour and… and… spiky, sun yellow hair was not in any way a ninja like either and he was _cheerful_, Dean was sure that had to be against some sort of ninja code or something. So, obviously not a ninja. Not that Dean had taken that seriously, because it was completely ridiculous.

"No," Dean said slowly and okay, now he felt like a complete idiot. Was he seriously going to stand there and argue about this? About hunters and fucking ninja?

Well, what the hell… right? "I'm a… hunter."

"A hunter?" Naruto asked, politely with a clueless look, like the kid actually didn't have any idea what the hell Dean was talking about. Fuck, did he actually believe that?

"I hunt monsters," Dean said and Naruto looked a bit surprised and still a little confused. "Supernatural evil, you know." Dean tried to clarify.

There was a sigh from Sasuke and a few quick words in that language Dean didn't understand at all, which was really kind of rude. Naruto's eyes went a bit round, before he turned to look towards Sasuke and said something right back hand lifting up to rub his stomach.

Dean would have said something. Except he really was at a loss as to what the hell he could say at this point that wouldn't make the whole thing even more absurd. He really, really should just leave.

The kids exchanged a few more words before Naruto turned back to Dean.

"I understand now," Naruto said his smile coming off with a bitter sort of twist. "We've met… hunters before." The way he said 'hunters' sounded like he was trying a new idea and for all Dean knew it might have been. Who the hell knew anymore.

"I guess that didn't go too well."

Dean really wanted to be doing something, because this standing around and talking shit was getting awkward as hell.

"They thought we were something…" Naruto scratched the back of his head and looked embarrassed. "Uh… what was the word you just used," he looked at Dean imploringly and gave half a glance back toward Sasuke, like one of them had to know what he was trying to say.

"It's supernatural, you idiot," Sasuke provided sounding the word carefully, the sounds slurring together a bit and the kid still managed to sound derisive in a wholly flat way. That took skill.

"Right, that." Naruto waived it off. "But we're not. Those things are creepy, they make my stomach hurt and my skin itch and we want nothing to do with them."

Dean didn't need to ask what the hunters had done and he didn't _want_ to ask what had happened to the hunters.

"And you're just… ninja." Well there were the throwing stars.

Naruto's head bobbed up and down enthusiastically as he smiled broadly, blue eyes shining happily at Dean.

"So do you know how to make anything other than ramen, Dean?" Naruto asked and suddenly bounced off toward the kitchen area, obviously thinking the conversation to be over and done with.

Also the blond seemed to think that orange pyjama's (with black bats, Dean had gotten a closer look when Naruto went past him) were completely fine to wear for cooking. And who was Dean to argue really? He was hungry damn it.

"Yeah dude, I guess I can manage. But we really need to talk more about this ninja thing," Dean answered and followed Naruto. Behind him he heard the scrape of a blade being sharpened.

He was fairly sure they weren't about to eat him right this minute and the kitchen was bound to have knives, which Dean was completely expected to use while making food. So that was good.


	4. Lullabies and Mommy Ghosts

**Lullabies and Mommy Ghosts,**

**** _An ordinary, everyday hunt_

_   
_

_Dean picked up hiss cell phone, one hand on the steering wheel. So he was gonna answer the phone while driving, big deal. There was no one there to complain about it._

"_Hello." He hadn't bothered to check the caller id, choosing to keep his eyes on the road instead._

"_So did you finish the hunt already? You found out who it was? Did anything exciting happen? Please tell me something exciting happened, I'm so bored. I want to hear about something exciting." Dean could hear the nervous energy on the other end of the connection. "I've been studying," was added in a plaintive whine._

"_Dude, you still haven't learned to say 'hi' first? What if it wasn't me?" Dean smiled ruefully, he knew good and well that his words were useless. He didn't mind all that much._

"_Eh, who else would answer your phone? If it was someone else answering I'd have to find them and kick their ass and then make them tell me what happened to you. Now, tell me what happened with the hunt already."_

"_Yeah well, sorry to disappoint but it was more weird than anything else," Dean shrugged._

"_That's better than these stupid seals."_

__

__   


* * *

  


 

Before Sam left dad had never really sent Dean on solo hunts, someone needed to look out for Sammy. After, it just seemed to make more sense to split up. Nowadays dad didn't seem to think twice about sending Dean out alone, of course Dean still got the routine hunts, but that was okay it was still a solo hunt. Anything that sounded like just another regular salt and burn and it was Dean going. He liked to think it was because dad knew he could trust Dean to get the job done. It felt good in a way Dean wasn't willing to think about too much. He wasn't planning on proving dad wrong anytime soon, even when some of the routine hunts occasionally turned less routine.

This time it was just another haunted house. Everything pointed to your regular angry spirit that when you came right down to it didn't even seem all that angry, more creepy and annoying than anything else. It shouldn't be any kind of problem, with any luck Dean would be in and out of town in a day.

It hadn't quite worked out as smoothly as he'd hoped. Now at first it really had seemed like the job would be ridiculously easy. He'd started with checking the house. There was no sense going to look for anything if there wasn't an actual ghost there. Not every haunted house was actually haunted. That part had been easy. The house still hadn't been sold after the last family moved out, so all Dean needed to do was pretend to be interested in buying and then discretely wave around his Walkman turned EMF meter.

What he'd found was definite supernatural activity all around. After a bit of prodding the pretty realtor admitted that the house had some minor trouble with the wiring, the lights flickered sometimes and the family that'd moved out had mentioned trouble with the heat

ing, but she'd never noticed anything like that herself. That supported the ghost theory pretty nicely, but still he might as well make sure, right?

It wasn't difficult at all to get the former house owners' new address from the realtor. Dean just wanted to talk to them about the house before making any kind of decision or you know, that's what he told her. The talk with the family had pretty much clinched it. Definitely a ghost. The family hadn't however been helpful in any way in trying to figure out whose spirit it was. Still that shouldn't have been all that hard to figure out.

That was where the extremely boring research came in and that was also when the minor hitch in his plans of getting the job done quickly had happened. It really shouldn't have been much of a problem to figure out who the ghost was and then go have himself a nice little roasting at the local graveyard. The house wasn't very old, there'd been exactly two families living in it. That wasn't very much history to go through, except there didn't seem to be anything to find. There wasn't a single suspicious death or missing person that seemed in any way connected to the house. In fact there seemed to be pretty much nothing suspicious at all in any way connected to the house. And no, there didn't seem to be anything special about the land the house was built on either.

Of course a spirit could be bound to something else, like some sort of object. And really Dean would have gotten right on that research, but the last family had taken all of their things with them and the house was empty. There wasn't anything to research. There was nothing at all in that house, except for the ghost.

After two days of pointless research Dean called quits. If he hadn't found anything by then, it wasn't likely that he would suddenly stumble over something.

* * *

"_I told you I was going to go have another look, so I did." _

"_Yeah because you love any kind of studying as much as I do, I know." Dean could easily imagine the amused grin that must have come with the words. "That's why I'm calling, isn't it? I wanna know what happened."_

"_Whatever dude. We both know you just want an excuse to listen to my voice."_

_He smirked at the indignant spluttering that followed._

__

__   


* * *

  


 

Later Dean might admit that it wasn't necessarily the best idea he'd ever had, but honestly he wasn't going to waste anymore time on trying to find information that didn't seem to exist. Still, in the end it did get the job done and that was what counted, so Dean was calling it a win.

Besides research was boring.

Of course that came after the breaking and entering. Since, yeah that's what he decided to do, go and have another look around the house. This time he was going in alone, during the night and armed.

The moment he'd stepped inside the house he'd been knocked unconscious.

No one had said the ghost was that violent.

After that things had just gone weird.

The next thing Dean knew he was waking up with one hell of a headache. And he was kind of sure there was a woman's voice singing a lullaby. Two things that didn't immediately add up in his mind.

When he actually got his eyes open, which had seemed unnaturally difficult, the first thing he saw was a dark haired woman looking down at him. She was pretty enough for a ghost, which Dean assumed she was.

She was singing, or at least he was pretty sure she was. It sounded like the voice came from somewhere far away, even though she was right there and Dean could see her lips moving to form the words that he couldn't quite make out.

"_I think his mother used to sing that." _The familiar voice seemed like a whisper in the back of his mind.

It didn't take him long to find out that he couldn't quite move, like he was suddenly all too heavy.

"I'm really not your kid." He slurred at the ghost.

The woman kept right on singing. Alright the situation wasn't ideal. Dean was stuck with nothing to do and that was definitely the ghost he'd been hunting. At least at the moment she didn't seem like she was going to do much of anything.

She crouched down and brushed a hand over Dean's forehead.

"_What's it about? I mean I've seen him when…well it doesn't sound… happy."_

"_It's not really… it's about being loyal to your village, how the village comes before anything else. About what it means to be a ninja, you know?"_

"_Dude, you sing that sort of stuff to kids? Doesn't sound quite right to me."_

"_You keep saying things like that every time I mention something about home, are civilians really that different?"_

"_I… Yeah, I think they are dude."_

"_Oh. Well… I don't really know why she sang that to him. Considering everything, it's just strange. I guess she could have been trying to warn him, but that doesn't make much sense either. It keeps making him all tangled up to think about it. He really thinks about it too much, it's just a lullaby."_

The voices faded away again and Dean blinked. Not that he didn't try to do something more, but he was still stuck.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch?" Well, she was a ghost, so that probably.

The woman stopped singing and smiled sadly at him and stroked his forehead again. Her hand felt cold, but solid enough.

"_Don't worry, baby. Angels are watching over you."_

"That's it bitch," Dean growled at her. "You're getting your ass killed. Again."

He could hear faint humming and it wasn't the ghost. He recognised the voice, just like he had the words just then.

"You don't touch that, you hear me? You leave her the fuck alone."

* * *

"_What? She was making you hear things?"_

"_I don't know, I guess." Dean snapped. He really hadn't meant to do that. "Maybe it was the concussion talking and she just reminded me, you know, of moms. In general. Or something."_

"_Did you really hear voices in your head?" Dean would have appreciated if the voice coming from the phone had sounded a little less gleeful about it. "Because that sounds creepy, you know. I don't like hearing other people's voices in my head, it usually means something bad." At least that sounded like someone was actually taking this seriously. "I don't think that's how memories work either, your not supposed to really hear voices."_

"_I thought I did, I'm not that sure about it now. I really don't want to think a ghost went poking around in my head." Yeah, because Dean liked his thoughts inside his head. In private. "Ghosts don't do that, not usually."_

"_So what did she want? You had to get away somehow, unless you're a ghost now. Do ghosts use phones?"_

__

__   


* * *

  


 

It took a while before Dean calmed down. The ghost went on singing and looking at him.

"What? You're watching over me, or something?" Dean asked at last, trying to sound at least half way reasonable, since yelling at her had gotten him nowhere. "Hate to break it to you, but you're the one who attacked me in the first place. And you're the one who's keeping me pinned to the floor."

The ghost flickered out of sight for a moment and the faint song he couldn't quite hear cut out abruptly. Her mouth moved and Dean suspected she was trying to say something, but there wasn't any sound at all now. Maybe he should start practising his lip reading.

Dean wasn't struggling anymore, but even so he noticed immediately when the weight from his limbs suddenly vanished and gravity seemed to revert back to normal. The ghost remained in place as Dean scrambled backwards, reaching for the shotgun that had fallen from his hands when he'd been knocked out. He aimed the sawed-off at her and hesitated.

* * *

"_That's not like you at all, you never miss that kind of opportunity. A monster's a monster, isn't that what you've told me? Did you change your mind?" There was a faint crackle of static over the phone and Dean wasn't sure, but that hadn't sounded quite as much like teasing as it should have._

"_I still didn't know who she was," Dean defended himself. "And she wasn't doing anything."_

"_Eh, admit it. You wanted to help her."_

"_Yeah, by salting and burning her. That's all the help any ghost is getting from me."_

__

__   


* * *

  


 

The ghost didn't do anything threatening. She just stayed there looking right at Dean. Again she tried mouthing words he couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, you know you're dead, right?" Dean kept the shotgun levelled at her, not trying to actually get up from the floor, but slowly inching away until he had his back against the wall.

She flickered briefly, in and out almost faster than he could see. She looked like she was about to cry.

"I'll take that as a yes. And don't go all _The Haunting _on me again, but you couldn't consider just, you know, moving on?"

She looked at him quietly. Big change there.

"No? You're just going to stay here and randomly attack people? I get it, you're scared and angry and hurting, but you stay here and it's just going to get worse."

The shotgun in his hands trembled for a moment and not because Dean's hands were shaking. Okay, not good. No making the nice ghost angry again.

"I don't believe I'm actually doing this," Dean muttered. "Okay, okay. So you _are _a mom, right?" She stared at him. "Yeah, not like you're gonna answer that. And you can't have died here, it would have been mentioned somewhere and everyone in the last family who lived here seemed pretty lively to me." There was no reaction from the ghost this far, but then he wasn't sure what that meant. "But I didn't track down what happened to the first family after they moved out and there was a daughter."

Dean kept the shotgun steady, ready to shoot her the moment she looked like she was about to go back to the vengeful spirit she was supposed to be.

"So if you really ended up back here to protect something, it has to be your kid." The shotgun flew out of his hands, the ghost flickered out of sight and reappeared standing over Dean, the sad look replaced by anger. "I'm not going to touch your kid," Dean yelled out hurriedly, because _fuck_. That was more confirmation than he'd wanted.

She wasn't doing anything. Dean looked up at her and okay, that had actually worked? Well, damn. And Dean was never going to try the 'talk it out' way of getting rid of a ghost ever again.

"Uh… Can I do something? Like, you know, help?"

She looked down at him, the anger had vanished again. She flickered and vanished. She reappeared briefly at the door to the kitchen, a barely there flicker before she was gone again.

Dean stood up, looked at the door to the kitchen, then at the sawed-off shotgun lying discarded on the floor.

* * *

"_Did you leave? I bet you left. You knew who she was, right? You could just leave and find out where they buried her."_

"_Yeah…" Dean drawled and found himself appreciating the fact that a phone conversation meant that no one could actually see him, because he hadn't just blushed. "Well, I had a concussion."_

* * *

He didn't pick up the shotgun before he walked into the kitchen. She was standing at the closed cellar door. Of course she did. Where else?

Dean opened the door and the ghost vanished again. He flicked the light switch and a single flickering light bulb turned on. Typical and well… ghost.

She was waiting for her at the far wall a hand resting against the bricks. She was singing the lullaby again the sound closer now, even if he still couldn't make sense of the words.

He looked at her and… well, yeah. That was it wasn't it. Just… _fuck_.

Fucking people.

"I'll make sure your kid gets a decent burial. You know, hallowed ground, the works. You can leave after that, right?"

She just kept looking at the wall.

"I have to go, I just need to get something to…" he waived at the wall, but there was no telling if she had any idea what was going on.

* * *

"_That was it really. I got a sledge hammer…"_

"_You have a sledge hammer in the car? Really?"_

"_I didn't say I got it from the car," Dean answered in automatic defence to the teasing, before actually realising that well... "Okay, so I did," he admitted after a small pause. "Stop interrupting or I won't tell you anything. So she was still there when I got back, it was damn creepy you know. I kept expecting her to attack me."_

"_Did she?"_

"_No. But next time I'm doing it the old fashioned way. Salt and burn, baby." Because as far as anything supernatural went Dean was right out of any kind of understanding, he was never doing that again. _

"_Okay, fine. But you didn't, this time. You didn't bury the kid, did you? You're no priest."_

"_I got the wall open enough to find what was left of the kid. Damn it, it was just a baby. I just… people, you know. I don't get it." Dean swallowed hard before continuing. "I made an anonymous call, they'll try to find out what happened and bury the kid eventually. As long as she doesn't attack anyone who gets their hands on the kid in the meantime."_

"_You still could have salted and burned her bones." Dean really didn't need anyone to point that out._

"_Well…"_

"_Oh, don't even start. I don't care. She hasn't harmed anyone yet, right? Not seriously anyway. I'm sure it'll be fine." Sometimes Dean forgot how differently they thought about a number of things. "Did you find out about the kid?"_

"_Nah, took of as fast as I could. Didn't want to stay around for any longer than I had to, no need to have anyone figure out I was breaking down any walls. I don't need to know." He already knew enough. Didn't matter whose fault it was, not anymore._

"_Aren't you even a little curious? I guess it doesn't matter now. Your fine though, right? I can hear the car you know, you said you had a concussion. Are you sure it's a good idea?"_

"_I'm fine," the answer was automatic, but he was good enough. He'd driven with far worse and he'd stop at a motel soon, so it was all good._

"_Okay," was the brief acknowledgment and Dean appreciated it; the trust that he'd know if he wasn't fine and wouldn't be stupid enough not to do something about it. "I'd tell you about my day, but you don't want to hear about seals, do you? I could tell you. Or not, since it's still secret and all." There was a small pause. "Hey, the bastard wants to say hi."_

"_I doubt it," Dean scoffed, but he could already hear what he assumed was the phone being handed over, or probably thrown if he knew them right._

"_Hello," the voice sounded perfectly flat._

_Dean smiled._


	5. My Sword and Your Knife

**My Sword and Your Knife,**   
_Everything means something_

They don't actually see Dean all that often. When Dean heads of on a hunt without John (and that's been happening more and more) he'll call them and tell them where he's going. Except no, not really. Dean doesn't call them to tell them that. He just calls them and then sooner or later it gets mentioned. He never asks them if they can come. They never say they will.

Still, here they are again.

Dean is sleeping, curled up on the shabby motel bed.

Tonight Dean has a split lip, a bandage on his right forearm and a pattern of bruises down the right side of his body. By the way he held himself earlier Sasuke surmised his ribs were bruised as well. Side effects of dispatching a poltergeist, according to Dean. It's probably the truth, Dean has no reason to lie about it, but the minor injuries could be from anything.

It doesn't really matter. Hunting is what Dean does, not them and it's no business of Sasuke's where Dean gets his injuries from. Dean has never asked for any kind of help in hunting and they've never offered. None of them ever will. This wouldn't work if they did.

At some point after Dean fell asleep Naruto crawled into bed with him. The blond is wrapped around Dean's larger body like he's trying to keep him safe. Knowing Naruto, he probably is.

Maybe it should look kind of funny, the size difference is considerable.

Sasuke knows that Dean sleeps with a knife under his pillow. More often than not Dean's hand is already curled around the handle of the knife. Sasuke also knows that there's no knife under the pillow now.

They are here and there's no knife. There hasn't been for a while. It means things Sasuke doesn't want to think about.

Sasuke draws his sword from the scroll it's sealed in. This world doesn't approve of people walking around with weaponry and it's better to stay inconspicuous. He checks the sword, just like he does every day.

He keeps an eye on the sleeping pair on the bed.

It amazes him that they'll sleep so easily in his presence. It will keep amazing him until they don't do that anymore, and sooner or later they will stop. Dean doesn't trust easily or lightly, has been raised with a healthy suspicion towards strangers. It's surprising that he acts so easy around Sasuke, he doesn't see how he could have given Dean any good reason to trust him. But Naruto knows what Dean can only ever suspect.

Naruto knows just as well as Sasuke what will happen when they get back to their own world.

Sasuke refuses to consider the possibility that they might not.

He doesn't like this world.

There's no vengeance for him to pursue here and no village for Naruto to protect. There are no dreams, no goals, no ambitions. It makes him weak, makes Sasuke start to think about things that can never be. It makes him regret things.

In this world he is only Sasuke and Naruto is only Naruto.

They have no reason to fight each other.

There are no real reasons for anything in this world.

Then there's Dean. He is a testament of what this world has done to Sasuke. Proof of the weakness that festers and grows inside him, the weakness he could never completely cut out.

He should have left Dean that first night or if he truly had felt the need to show mercy he should have killed him. Sasuke would never have hesitated before. Instead he did what he knew Naruto would have wanted him to, what Sasuke might have wanted to once, a very long time ago.

Dean is the second friend Sasuke has ever made, he is determined that Dean will be the last.

In his own world Sasuke wouldn't have looked twice at the man. Dean doesn't have the kind of strength that would make him interesting to Sasuke. Sasuke doesn't have any use for him and he's no threat to a shinobi. Still Sasuke knows the strength inside the man, knows about his bravery and his caring. In this world he can afford to think about things like that, it doesn't mean he should.

He likes Dean and it shouldn't matter.

Dean is no shinobi, but he's more sensible than anyone Sasuke has met in this world. More sensible than many ninja Sasuke knows. Dean knows better than to poke into things better left alone, he has a younger brother he'd protect at any cost. Dean knows about vengeance and the things it demands from those who pursue it.

Sasuke can respect him and that shouldn't matter either. Sasuke shouldn't let it matter.

Spending time with the hunter is unsettling. He is a constant reminder of Sasuke's own weaknesses and of the things Sasuke can never have. Dean is good in a way that Sasuke knows he will never be, in a way that not even Naruto can ever be. They are ninja and Dean is not.

Sasuke tries not to think about it.

He doesn't like this world at all. It makes him weak. It makes him consider things he shouldn't. It makes him want things he can never have.

Maybe Naruto isn't such a bad thing. It has always been him and Naruto. Friends or enemies. Naruto has always been a source of both weakness and strength to Sasuke. One day they will have their final fight and maybe Naruto's words will prove true. If not, then Sasuke's will. Either way, Naruto will die, but until then he will always be the reason for Sasuke to grow stronger.

What they have here is something that could never have happened before, but Sasuke can't find it in himself to regret it. Not when he knows what will happen.

But Dean. Dean is nothing but weakness and there isn't any excuses for it. One day Sasuke will leave that weakness behind him. He has to.

Soon, but not today.

Today he sits and cares for his sword and watches the sleeping pair on the bed and regrets the inevitable.


	6. How Sammy Met Jess

**How Sammy Met Jess,**   
_Off to Stanford we go_

If he ever thought back to what happened the night they met Dean would never be quite sure why they helped him. Why they not only saved him, but took him away and made sure that he was alright. Of course Dean doesn't really think about it, so he doesn't need to wonder.

It's a bit odd that they seem okay with his way of dealing with things. Dean's too used to Sammy who never did know how to let things be, Sam was always asking questions about _everything_. But those two never try to make him talk things out, not really. There aren't even any offers to listen if he wants to talk, no kind of prodding at all.

Of course after the first shock had worn of Dean had finally regained some of his usual mistrust, so there really wouldn't have been any talking any which way. They'd seemed okay with that too. More than okay really. Mistrust was apparently something they understood.

Maybe that was kind of why they'd stayed in contact, because Dean hadn't trusted them completely and that's why he made some sense to them. And Dean had told himself that it was a good idea to keep some sort of eye out on the weird ass maybe-ninja boys, just in case.

Dean's completely okay with not thinking about the why's of it any more than that. His own reasons are fine just the way they are and he really doesn't want to think about what motives those two could have.

If he does think about that he might end up thinking that he's some strange sort of pet to them, like some stray kitten they rescued. Or when he's feeling less pathetic he just might come to the conclusion that those two see some parts of themselves in him, the sort of things they might have been if they hadn't been what they are. Those aren't the sort of things anyone wants to think about.

See, they don't seem to have that many illusions about what they are, not even Naruto who's usually all bright smiles and compassion. Dean can't really decide which one is more disturbing; Sasuke's darkness or Naruto's brightness. He gets the feeling he doesn't even know half of it and he's fine with that, because what he knows is bad enough.

"This world makes us weak," Sasuke once told him. "That's the only reason you're alive."

So if they creep him out so fucking much, why the hell does he stay in contact with them? And that's simple really, he likes them. Dean doesn't exactly have friends and it's nice to talk to someone and not lie. So maybe he shouldn't be so surprised about how close he's gotten to them.

He'd known them for around two years when he got all the proof he'd ever need that they really did like him back (and god, if that didn't make him sound like a teenaged girl). Proof, that is, that they liked him as a friend and not some stray _thing_ they liked keeping around.

At some point he'd already told them about Sammy and the whole fight with their dad. And that's sort of huge and he can't even remember when he did it, just that he had.

Then had come that day he'd tried to contact Sammy and hadn't that gone all to hell, because Sammy didn't want to hear anything form Dean. Not even a fucking phone call.

What the hell had Dean done to deserve that? Maybe he should have tried to see Sammy sooner, but then Sam could have called him too. Except that Sammy's nice and normal life doesn't include a fucked up big brother who wouldn't recognise normal if it jumped him and punched him in the gut.

The only thing Dean had ever wanted was to make sure his baby brother was safe.

Yeah, so he might have been a bit drunk when he told his friends about the fucked attempt to talk to Sammy. He can still remember the silence that followed and that should have been some sort of clue, because Naruto silent wasn't something that happened a lot.

"Hey Sasuke, Stanford seems like a nice place," Naruto had said with his customary grin and a flash of sharp canines.

Dean had been too drunk to really get it straight away, but hat had been it. The whole thing decided right there and just like that the two of them were off to keep tabs on Sammy.

Apparently medicine was a worthwhile thing to study.

"Eh, you can never know too much anatomy." Had been Naruto's explanation and Dean had decided that he didn't need to think about that too deeply either.

Dean never asked them how closely they watched Sammy, but at least he knew his brother was safe. That just had to be enough.

When he visited Stanford he never tried to see Sam.

* * *

The blonde looked up and then a bit further up. The guy was _tall_. And kind of cute.

"Uh, sorry… I wasn't really looking…" she apologised sheepishly. "Ah, you can let go now," she added a moment later.

"Right," the guy said moving his hands away from her a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "Are you alright?" He asked in what seemed like genuine concern.

"I'm fine," she said feeling the blush on her own cheeks. "I really should have been looking where I was going," she tried to apologise again.

"No harm done," the tall, cute guy assured her with a rather charming smile. "I'm Sam by the way."

"Nice to meet you Sam, I'm Jess," she grinned at him.


	7. Hug It Out

**Hug It Out,**   
_The ooc interlude_

Over time Dean has learnt a few things about his two friends. He knows that they come from some place he can't even begin to imagine and that they can do stuff that just ain't natural. Dean knows that if he'd met them under any other circumstances he would probably have tried to kill them and he'd be dead now.

Dean knows that they don't have family and that those two love each other. They've done things Dean doesn't even want to know about, he's pretty sure about that even if they've never exactly told him. Dean never asks about how they make their money, he doesn't need to think about it if he doesn't know.

He also knows that Naruto is loyal, caring and kind and the kid wouldn't hesitate to give his life for a friend. The blond is rash and impulsive and has a tendency not to think things through (those aren't necessarily bad things, Dean tends to do the same sometimes and it's always worked for him). Dean is aware that Sasuke is different; he's colder, less kind and has stiff necked pride that won't ever let him confess to anything that he sees as a weakness.

Considering all these things Dean thinks he knows about the two he really doesn't have any idea why he's standing with his arms wrapped around Sasuke. He doesn't know why Sasuke is leaning into him, with his face pressed into Dean's chest and his arms holding onto Dean with a grip that borders on the painful.

He almost forgets sometimes that while Sasuke is a lot smaller than him, the kid could still break him in half if he wanted to. It's too easy to just react to the fact that he's holding someone small and slender in his arms. It's not something Dean can afford to forget.

He'd really like to think that Sasuke, or Naruto for that matter, could never hurt him. Not on purpose, because that's the sort of thing you should think about the people you care about. Dean knows better.

They won't though, he's pretty sure about that. They don't really have any reason to, but he doesn't doubt that they _could_.

"I hate him," Sasuke says quietly and the flat tone really doesn't fit with the way he's wrapped up in Dean's arms. Dean can't help but feel… uneasy. "I hate you," Sasuke announces a heartbeat later in that same toneless way.

And, okay, Dean is starting to get worried. This isn't like Sasuke and Dean so doesn't know how to handle this kind of shit under the best of circumstances. Naruto would be better, at least he'd be more likely to survive if things go south. Naruto isn't anywhere to be seen and Dean kinda suspects there's already been a fight of some sort. At least he hopes there was a fight, 'cause if this is just coming out of the blue then he's already way past worrying.

Yeah, Naruto would be better because Dean's not exactly a hugging kind of guy and Sasuke is even less of one. And talking it out doesn't rank up there in his top ten things to do either.

_Well, here goes nothing._

"Yeah, well that sucks, cause he kinda loves you."

From the complete lack of any sort of reaction at all, Sasuke might as well not have heard him.

_In for a dime and all that._

"And so do I." Sasuke doesn't exactly flinch, but Dean feels the kid's muscles tense and when it comes to Sasuke that's plenty of reaction. Maybe it's because it's the first time Dean's ever said something like that, or maybe it's just because this is Sasuke and who the hell ever knows what goes on in his head.

"I know there's plenty I don't know about you, and hell, from what I gather I don't want to." Dean moves one hand upwards and starts stroking Sasuke's hair. He almost can't believe it when Sasuke still does nothing. "If I think about it too much it scares the crap out of me. I mean I know I'm a freak, but you and him… you're so far beyond that." Dean keeps petting Sasuke's hair and Sasuke clings to him silently. "But I don't really care if you're completely out of your fucking mind or not, you've never been anything but decent to me. You fucking well sat and sang me a lullaby when I couldn't sleep," Dean hisses out, trying not to yell. He isn't sure where it's coming from, but suddenly he's mad as all hell.

He still keeps holding on to Sasuke though, petting the other's head gently. For a moment he has to wonder if he's being possessed by something.

"You make me weak," Sasuke says and Dean wants to shake him just to hear something else than that same calm monotone. He knows there are fucking emotions inside the man.

"Fuck that. What the fuck use do you have of a life where there's no one you care about? Is that what your goddamn brother died for?"

Sasuke stiffens completely and Dean's hand jerks to a stop. Oh, yeah mentioning the brother was a bad move. Dean doesn't even know what he's talking about, doesn't know much more than it's something you don't mention. Not under any circumstances, ever.

"No." Sasuke says at last when Dean is just about ready to ask for a quick death. "But I was never strong enough."

"Caring about someone doesn't make you weak. Sure it can make things a lot harder, but what the hell's the point otherwise." Fuck it all if he isn't flying completely blind here. Dean's got zero idea what to say, he's pretty much trying to channel Sammy here and he's not sure how good that's going.

It still feels like he's holding on to a block of granite and the arms around him feel like a vice.

"Emotions are nothing but a weakness."

"Well doesn't that make your brother weak?" Blind guess, there and Dean's praying that something scores a hit and doesn't end up with him dead on the floor.

There's silence and even though Sasuke doesn't relax one bit, Dean will take it as a good sign. Or possibly as a sign of his impending painful dismemberment, but he's really hoping for the first option.

"I fucking well love you Sasuke, doesn't that mean a damn thing to you?" Dean nearly yells at him.

Dean gulps in a harsh breath. Once, twice. He can feel his heart beat pounding in his ears.

"Yes," Sasuke whispers and then he's gone.

Dean blinks and then stumbles to the nearest chair and falls down on it. He rubs a shaky hand over his face.

He'll take angry spirits any day over Sasuke being emotional. It's way fucking less terrifying.


	8. Fairy Tale In the Making

**Fairy Tale In the Making,**   
_He loves her_

Sam Winchester is happy.

Of course this doesn't mean his life is perfect by any means. His mother died when he was too little to remember it and he hasn't spoken to his dad or his big brother in years. He misses them.

He misses the mother he never had. She's a symbol for the life Sam would have had if his mom hadn't died. A normal, happy life and he wants that, probably more than he wants a mother he doesn't even remember.

He misses his dad too, even if it was dad who told him to stay gone. He doesn't miss the fights with dad, or the hunts or worrying if his dad was going to come home alive this time. He doesn't miss the training and he doesn't miss never staying in one place too long, but he does miss his dad. Because no matter all the shit that went down between them and the fact that sometimes his father was a crap parent, he still loves his dad. He really does want his father to be proud of him, just like any normal kid, but he doesn't think his dad ever will be.

More than anything else Sam misses his brother. Dean is the one who was always there. Sam never had a mother and half of the time he had a drill sergeant instead of a father and that's when dad was around in the first place, but Dean was always there.

He should have handled things differently with Dean. Sam refuses to feel guilty about how things went with dad, but that wasn't Dean's fault. But Sam was angry and hurt and Dean didn't do anything, didn't say anything and Sam knew that if anything Dean had agreed with dad, even if he didn't say it.

When Dean tried to contact him two years later Sam didn't react too well. Two years of nothing and Sam was still hurt and kind of angry. It took a while to realise that he hadn't really tried to contact Dean either, but it was kind of too late then.

Sam's still kind of hurt and angry and all he can do is worry about his brother, because he doesn't even know where Dean is. Maybe if Dean called again, he'd say something different and maybe that depends on what Dean would have to say. But that's just idle speculation, since he doesn't think Dean will call, not after last time.

So no, obviously Sam's life isn't perfect, but he's doing well in school and he likes studying. Maybe he's a bit low on money most of the time, but he gets by and it's not like he hasn't had it worse.

More importantly, Sam has the most amazing girlfriend ever. She's funny and smart and gorgeous and Sam doesn't think he deserves her. Not by a long shot. But he's not going to complain.

Sam loves Jess. Loves everything about her. He loves her stubbornness and her sometimes quirky sense of humour. He loves her kindness and the way she cares about things. Sam thinks that one day he'll ask her to marry him.

Sometimes he feels guilty about lying to Jess. Sometimes he wants so much to tell her the truth about everything, but she doesn't need to know. It would only make her worry. Besides that isn't his life anymore and it never will be again. So telling her would just be selfish.

Sam Winchester's life is far from perfect. But it is his life and it's good enough, because he's in love and he's happy.


	9. We Don't Need No Wate

**We Don't Need No Water,**   
_And then I almost died_

"Oh, shit that hurt," Naruto swore as he slumped down next to the tree. He looked at the now rapidly healing wound on his stomach and swore again.

"Whose idea was it to play dead?" He asked aloud. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Can't let the stupid demons of this world notice us. I agreed with you, you stupid fox, didn't I?"

The demon inside him seemed to growl once, though it wasn't particularly threatening before settling down to rest again. Kyuubi had been doing a lot of keeping down and quiet since they'd been here.

"Are Dean and Sam alright?"

"They're fine," Sasuke answered as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Sam's going to be… upset," Naruto voiced his opinion.

Sasuke nodded curtly. "What happened?"

"Some fucking demon. Whatever happened to their mom just happened to me. The fox was doing it's best to pretend it wasn't there so I figured I better just play normal for as long as I could. I tried to get something out of that yellow eyed fucker, but all I really got was that it wants something from Sam. If I'd tried anything more I would have blown my cover sky high."

Naruto ran a hand over his now completely healed abdomen. "It had me hanging on that ceiling for forever," he whined. "I damn near did die."

"The demon didn't notice anything?"

"I don't think it was really looking," Naruto answered. "I didn't give it any reason to."

"Good."

"So, what now?" Naruto asked quietly. "Sam's going with Dean, isn't he?"

"It seems so."

"Well this worked out better than I'd planned," Naruto grinned weakly.

"Tch, like you actually had a plan."

"I planned. Sort of. And hey, you agreed to it." Naruto rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Well tonight was a surprise, but it did work out alright. Dean's got his brother back and…" he shrugged weakly.

"And Sam thinks you're dead." Sasuke stated coldly. "I know you feel guilty about it."

Naruto shrugged again. "No more than I felt about lying to him in the first place." Naruto smiled at Sasuke. "And it was for a good reason, I can live with that."

"Hn." Sasuke acknowledged the statement. It was all that really needed to be said.

"Did you talk to Dean?" Naruto asked after a while.

"Briefly."

"You didn't tell him…?" Naruto asked, not really sounding too worried.

"No." Sasuke answered managing with one word to imply that the question had been stupid to begin with.

"Do you think he figured it out? Dean isn't stupid."

"He might have, but he wouldn't say anything even if he did. He knows to leave certain things be," Sasuke said approvingly. Dean was no shinobi, but for someone raised in this world he was usually remarkably sensible about things. In fact there were shinobi that could well afford to take lessons from Dean Winchester in that regard. "It doesn't matter now, Jessica is dead."

"You're right," Naruto agreed. "Is he really alright?"

"Dean's fine. He'll call later." Sasuke looked down at him. "You did almost die, didn't you."

"I told you so bastard. I had to fucking well mask my chakra and stop myself from healing while that stupid fucker went on cutting me up. And I almost burned up, because I couldn't leave before I was sure that yellow eyed bastard was gone." Naruto ranted.

"You'll be fine, idiot." If there was a slight note of relief to Sasuke's voice, no one commented on it.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Naruto grumbled. "Just give me a couple of minutes and I'm good to go."


	10. Eulogy For a Girl

**Eulogy For a Girl,**   
_Jessica Lee Moore is dead_

Jessica Moore is dead, of this there is no doubt. The little that was left of her was found in the aftermath of a fire and buried soon after. She left behind loving parents and a younger sister. She also left behind a boyfriend whom her family wouldn't have minded seeing as her husband one day. They always quite liked him.

Only two people alive know that she did not die in that fire, because Jessica Moore died a year and nine months before that fire ever happened. One of those two people is the one who snuck into that blazing building and left her remains there. The other is the one who killed her.

Only two people know for a fact that Jessica Moore never met Sam Winchester. Never accidentally bumped into him, was never introduced to him, never went on a date with him, never fell in love with him.

To the world at large Jessica Moore died in an accidental fire. Two people think they know the truth. They believe that she was killed by a demon and that the fire was a result thereof. One of them saw her and the other has no reason not to believe him or at least if he has any doubts about what happened he will never voice them.

But only two people know the real truth of what happened and they will never share it with anyone. Technically a demon was involved, actually two completely different demons were involved at different points of that tale. Neither of those were responsible for her death though, at least in anything but a very complicatedly indirect way.

Sam Winchester will always blame himself for the death of Jessica Moore. In a way he's right, even though he never actually met her, but that is something he will never know. He should blame his brother for her death, but that is also something he will never know and neither will his brother.

Jessica Moore is dead and Sam Winchester is the reason. But she did not die because Sam Winchester loved her. She died because she was convenient. She died because she attended Stanford, because she was pretty and nice and the kind of person Sam Winchester would be attracted to.

Her killer didn't enjoy her death, didn't really want her to die at all and made sure to make it as painless as possible, which really means she didn't feel a thing. He even felt sad about her death and for her parents and sister. He never regretted it, not even when he watched her parents burry her almost two years later. He felt guilty then perhaps, but it was neither the first or last person he will ever kill. Not even the first innocent person.

Jessica Moore is dead and only four people know that she was murdered. Two of them blame the wrong person, or demon in this case. Only two people know the truth. They know her death will never be avenged. Only one of them cares.

Jessica Moore died one year and nine months ago.

She was buried today.

Her murderer lays white lilies on her grave and walks away.


	11. How Many Friends Is Too Many

**How Many Friends Is Too Many,**   
_Conversation overheard_

Sam turns slightly about to push the door of the gas station open with his shoulder, since his hands are occupied with what amounts to today's dinner. He glances out through the grimy glass his gaze automatically going to the Impala.

Sam stops. There's nothing all that unusual. His brother his leaning against the side of the car, one hand absently running up and down the side of it. He looks like he's petting it and knowing Dean that's probably exactly what he's doing. The other hand his holding a phone to his ear.

None of that is what makes Sam freeze in his tracks, it's not like his brother doesn't get the occasional phone call about some hunt or another. It's the look on Dean's face that makes Sam feel like he'd be intruding on something if he stepped out now, like he's intruding just by watching, but he can't turn away.

There's a soft smile on Dean's features that reminds Sam of when he was a kid and Dean was everything in the whole world. It's a bit like the smile Sammy used to get sometimes.

Dean's lips move as he says something into the phone and his lips quirk in that same way they tend to do when he's flirting with some pretty girl. Whatever answer he gets, it makes Dean chuckle slightly before his face slips back into that absently fond smile that's too much like the way Dean used to look at Sammy (and Sam's not jealous at all, he tells himself. That would be stupid) as he continues to listen to the person on the other side. His free hand keeps drawing lazy patterns on the Impala.

Sam unfreezes himself and pushes the door open. He walks to toward the car like everything's normal and really it is. Dean's just talking on the phone, it's not like he hasn't seen his brother do that before. It's not like he's really even interrupting Dean. So, why does it still feel like Sam's doing something he shouldn't?

Dean looks up when the door opens, that strange softness (and Sam can't help but want to call it sweetness, but that sounds so wrong when it's Dean he's thinking of) vanishes from the smile as his eyes settle on Sam.

"Dude, I got to go," Dean says abruptly, but apologetically into the phone.

"Yeah," Dean says after a beat as Sam walks around the car. He can feel his brother's eyes following him.

"Yeah," Dean says again, but this time the word sounds oddly gruff. Sam opens the car door and doesn't look at his brother. "Love you too." Even without looking Sam can hear the smirk in his brother's tone.

"Who was that?" Sam asks casually as Dean joins him inside the car.

He can't quite decipher the look Dean gives him. "A friend."

"I didn't think you had any." Maybe that comes out a bit more snidely than he meant it to.

"Yeah, well no one I need to lie to." Dean says and turns the key. The engine roars to life and as Dean turns the car towards the highway, he doesn't seem to notice the look of blatant disbelief that Sam gives him.


	12. Not Some Imaginary Tale

**Not Some Imaginary Tale,**   
_Things that dreams are made of_

Dean has realised a long time ago that there's never going to be any happy endings for anyone in his family. Maybe he realised it when he was four years old and holding on to his baby brother as his whole life burnt to the ground. Maybe not. At least it wasn't very long after that and the exact moment doesn't really matter, because it's been true from that moment on.

There's no happy endings for any of the Winchesters. Dean has known it for as long as it matters and he's learnt to live with that. He learned to ignore any dreams he might have had for himself, because it was obvious they weren't going to happen anyway.

Dad had had his happy ending taken away from him and all he's looking for is vengeance. And Sam, Sam had always been looking for his happy ending, convinced that it was still out there, hidden in some normal life and all he had to do was find it. Dean had known that could never end well, had known that sooner or later Sam would realise that he wasn't cut out for normal. And there Dean was, had always been, stuck between dad's search for vengeance and Sam's yearning for normal. All Dean's ever done is try to be the best son and the best brother he could be. Maybe he's managed it and maybe not, but at least he knows he's done the best he could. That has to count for something, doesn't it?

It's kind of funny (except it really, really isn't) how dreams of his own still crept up on him, despite all of that. Not the kind of dreams like dad has, of finding the thing that killed mom, of finding answers. Of course he wants that, but not to the point of obsession. Far more than vengeance Dean just wants dad to be okay, wants him to be alive and well and not gone to god knows where. Yeah, that's one dream.

Dean doesn't dream of being normal, like Sam does. He wouldn't know what to do with it. But when Sam's dreams of anything normal shattered with his girlfriend's death Dean finds himself wishing that he could give his brother all those things that Sam wants. Dean's happy as all hell to have his brother back with him, he won't deny that, but still if he could give Sam his perfect world, Dean would. Too bad the world isn't ever going to be perfect and shit's always going to happen to people who don't deserve it.

He loves his family more than anything in the world. But dad had mom and Sam had Jess and at least for a while they got to believe that they'd found their own happy end. Dean's never had that, never fooled himself into thinking he could have that. Maybe Dean's got it better then, because at least he never had to loose that, but somehow he can't quite make himself believe it. Maybe he'd like to think for a little while at least that things will work out in the end. For a precious few moments he'd had Cassie and he might have been in love with her and maybe he could have… but that was over before it really even began and it's not like that was much of a surprise.

Dean has never dreamt of happy endings, not like dad, not like Sam. And the only thing he has beside his family is an unpredictable and deadly, blue eyed blond, with far, far too much energy and a cold eyed killer with a superiority complex a mile wide and the pride to match. Dean's never seen any happy endings there, but it's the best he's going to get and Dean has learned to take what he can, for as long as he can.


	13. Death is No Excuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.12 Faith tie in.

  
**Death is No Excuse,**   
_Just pretend it's not happening_   


"So, you're dying," the familiar voice says sounding just slightly less upbeat than usual.

Dean turns his head towards the window and smiles weakly at the blond crouching on the windowsill. Sasuke at least is standing on the floor leaning against the wall right next to the window.

"You ever going to use the door like a normal person?"

"Eh, where's the fun in that," Naruto grins back.

"I take it you got the message?"

"Obviously, since we're here." Naruto answers him. "You could have said something more, you know. 'I'm dying' goes straight to the point and all, but you could have given us a bit more to go on," Naruto grumbles, but doesn't sound too upset about it. Not the way Sam does, like they're actually talking about Dean dying.

"At least I told you where I was," Dean defends himself. "I don't like voicemail."

Naruto jumps down and lands on the floor without a sound. "Where's Sam?"

"Off trying to find a way to save me."

"And you're going to lie here and pretend that none of this is happening?" Naruto asks incredulously and Dean thinks maybe a bit angrily.

"No," Dean says, but doesn't quite know how to continue. Because isn't that exactly what he's doing? "I'm going to go see Sam and pretend that none of this is happening."

Naruto grins. "That's more like it. Dying isn't any excuse to start acting like the bastard over there." He points toward the silent Sasuke. "There's no excuse for that."

Sasuke ignores him.

"Come on then," Naruto urges. "We need to get you up from there." And he's already off getting Dean up from the bed and loose from the ridiculous amount of medical equipment.

Sasuke hands him his clothes and Dean swears that the bastard is smirking.

"Nice to know someone thinks that my dying is funny." He can't quite stop the small smile that tugs at his own lips.

* * *

The two ninja hustle him off to Sam's motel room, which he appreciates really because he doesn't think he would have gotten all the way there on his own.

"If Sam finds something, anything, you're going to try it," Naruto orders just before he hugs Dean. It's surprisingly gentle and Dean pretends not to notice how careful the blond is being. "I won't forgive you if you die because you gave up." When he pulls away Dean can see the wetness glistening in his eyes.

Naruto lets go of him and Dean stumbles as he looses his support, but Sasuke's hands are there to steady him. Sasuke rests a hand over Dean's heart and looks up at Dean with a solemn expression. Then a small smile tugs at his lips.

"I love you too," Sasuke's voice says softly.

Naruto bangs on the door to Sam's room and the two ninja are gone. Dean blinks back tears and looks up as Sam opens the door. At least it's easy to pretend that he looks like crap because of the whole dying thing. It's pretty much true anyway.


	14. Sitting on a Rooftop

  
**Sitting on a Rooftop,**   
_It's a bit like magic_   


Naruto has never been credited with being overly intelligent. To be honest, in the past people mostly thought he was just plain stupid, which isn't entirely accurate. Sure he isn't one for book learning, he'll be the first to admit that. It's boring and it just isn't enough to hold his attention for very long. Most of the time that is, if he has a good reason he'll force himself to pay attention for long enough. He doesn't like it and it's still boring and it's always a struggle, but sometimes it's necessary.

This doesn't make him stupid though or mean that he's not good at learning things. No, he's just always learnt better by doing.

He knows now that he wasn't really stupid, just too energetic and impulsive to be able to sit quietly in a classroom and pay attention. And it's not like anyone cared enough to help him or figure that out. Nowadays he's learned some restraint, he's had to, but he's still more likely to throw himself into a situation and figure it out on the way. And why not? After all that's where he excels. Thinking on his feet, making plans on the fly.

He isn't one for long term planning. Not to say he's totally incompetent, it's one of those things he's had to learn, even though he might not have a natural affinity for it. And whatever anyone says about Naruto, they can't deny that he's just too stubborn to give up. So once he realises that he needs to learn something he will, no matter what. It might be boring, or difficult or plain impossible, but sooner or later he'll manage it.

But as said, Naruto's true strength lies in determining the best course of action in the middle of a crisis. He makes new solutions if there aren't any to be had, thinks outside the box. Actually Naruto probably never realised there was a box in the first place.

The decision that looms ahead of him now, like some big, horrible shadow that darkens everything in front of him isn't something he can make impulsively. He can't run head first into this and hope for the best.

And here and now there isn't anyone to help him with this decision. There's no Shikamaru to go to for planning, no Sakura to talk to about his feelings, no Hinata to ask for well thought advice, no Iruka to support him, no Tsunade to give him orders, no Kakashi to... well be Kakashi. No, this decision is his and his alone.

Of course the answer should be obvious. He is a shinobi of Konoha. His duty is clear. And Naruto's loyalty to his village has never been in question. The loyalty to those he considers friends has always been just as unshakable. And he has always found a way to honour both, even when it seemed impossible.

He stares out at the still strange city that spreads out under him. It's been years now, but this world still feels odd. The roof he perches on now is not that high, in comparison to places he has seen here, but it ës still higher than any building Konoha ever sported. He's learned to live in this world, he is a shinobi, he adapts, but still all too often this world simply makes no sense. The people here are in some ways so familiar and in other ways completely different from the people at home.

_Civilians._ He reminds himself, it's a world filled with civilians. Except not quite.

He's seen things in this world that are horrible, even after all the things he's seen in his own world. Because the things at home make sense. Not to say he doesn't know his fair share of psychotic, sadistic bastards. More often than not, he calls them friends. And even the ones that are enemies...... well he doesn't need to agree with them to understand their reasons. Crazy, stupid, evil reasons, but they still make sense. Sort of.

He supposes it's only fair though, because the people here don't seem to understand him either. Not even Dean, even though Dean never makes an issue of it.

Then there are things in this world that make the demon sealed inside him squirm in discomfort. And anything that makes Kyuubi feel uncomfortable can't be good. They feel wrong the demon tells him and Naruto has to agree. And there are things that Kyuubi is afraid of here, not that the demon has outright said so, because the Kyuubi would not admit to being afraid. But this whole world makes the fox feel threatened. He isn't sure if the demon simply refuses to explain what it is, or if he just isn't capable of understanding, but for the Kyuubi to suddenly be content in hiding in its prison inside Naruto... it doesn't take a genius to figure out there's something bad going on. At least this world has made the fox more agreeable, he isn't sure if he should see that as a good thing, but when it comes to figuring out how to get back home the demon has been outright helpful.

He looks down at the paper in his hands, no convenient scrolls to be found here. Black ink drawn meticulously in infinitely complicated patterns. For a moment a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, who would have thought Naruto ever capable of designing something like this back in their Academy days? Any pride he feels at his accomplishment fades quickly under the implication of the seal design in his hands.

He feels Kyuubi growl inside his mind. The demon isn't happy at all.

Naruto sighs and carefully tucks the paper into a pocket of his cargo pants, before making his way down from the roof. He still has a contract to fulfil this night after all, and though it shouldn't take him long at all, no mission here ever does, he better get to it.


	15. A Strange Picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pointless trivia; this was the second part of this whole thing that I wrote. Had seen altogether about a minute of Supernatural ever in my life.

  
**A Strange Picture,**   
_Sam spies a ninja_   


All he has the time to notice is the sudden flurry of movement and even if he hadn't been bound to this actual damned stake there wouldn't be time to do anything. Dark shapes moving faster than he can see. And then everything seems frozen, like some bizarre picture he doesn't quite understand.

There's Dean, pointing a gun to where no one is standing anymore. And of course, he knew Dean would come. He always does.

And there's the completely useless demon worshipper lying on the floor. Sam knows dead when he sees it. No danger to anyone anymore.

_"We can't just kill him."_ The memory of his own words echoes distantly in his mind. Old argument and Sam always wins, because Dean doesn't want to kill anyone any more than Sam does. But Dean has to make the argument, because he thinks it's the practical thing to do, that maybe that's what dad would do.

So once again Sam convinced Dean (Dean let himself be convinced) to try something else first. It had backfired and once again Sam is cast as the damsel in distress in this play Dean and him seem unable not to repeat. Sam is captured and once more Dean will have to rescue him.

He tries to ignore the tinge of bitterness that shadows his thoughts. At least sometimes they get to do things the other way around.

Sam can't exactly be upset that tall, blond and all around crazy is dead now. Because as much as he doesn't want people to die, he was about to _sacrifice_ Sam. The guy was human, but he wasn't exactly innocent.

But no shots were fired. Dean is standing just a few steps inside the room, gun held at the ready, but still unused.

Sam's eyes turn away from his brother in this strange and quiet tableau. For once Dean is only in the background, an afterthought added to an already finished picture. Important only because he is _Dean._

In Sam's eyes Dean can never stay completely in the background. Sam's eyes will always seek out his brother. Instinct, training, _love_. Call it what you will, it doesn't need explanations, it just is and Sam has long since been satisfied to call it simply _Dean_.

Then he looks at the quiet form standing over the now dead would-be demon worshipper. It's like the world has suddenly been bleached of colour.

Black bangs fall into a pale face, the head is tilted downwards and Sam can't make out much. Sam's eyes fall downwards, the pale flesh of bare hands a stark contrast against the all black clothing. And there, in delicate looking hands the only colour in that stark black and white picture. Sharp steel and crimson blood.

A sword. No, a distant part of Sam's mind notes, a _katana_, or maybe that's just pop culture talking. It doesn't matter though, because the kid, as far as Sam can tell it is a kid, just killed someone with a fucking _sword_. And while it happened to be a crazy, demon worshipping someone, the kid still _stuck a sword through a human being._

"Dean?" Sam asks, his voice a mix of relief and caution and an edge of _what the fuck is going on_.

Dean lowers the gun and looks at Sam. Sam can see the relief flash through his brother's eyes as they take in Sam and the lack of any obvious injuries. There isn't anything to find. The worst of it chafed wrists and a headache.

_And what if Dean had come just a few moments later?_ He brushes the question aside with practiced ease. If he stayed to think about things like that, he wouldn't survive for long.

Besides it wasn't exactly Dean who saved him, now was it?

He looks back towards the pale, black haired kid, to see that he's wiping the blood of the _katana_, his sometimes over pedantic mind insists on the term and he still isn't sure it's right. And it wouldn't be so bad, except that he's wiping the blood off on the shirt of his victim, seeming entirely unconcerned by the fact that the man is _dead_.

"Dean?" He asks again, though this time there's more demand and less question. And if he sounds a tiny bit freaked out… well, considering the circumstances he thinks he's entitled to.

"Sammy…" Dean starts to say while taking a few steps towards him. And why the hell doesn't he seem the slightest bit concerned about the _katana_ wielding kid he must have brought with him, because that's the only explanation that makes any sense. Except for the fact that even that doesn't make any sense.

Whatever Dean had been about to tell him, never gets to be said as there's a sudden _thump_ at the doorway. Sam's eyes dart to the noise and suddenly everything seems even more bizarre.

"This was the only other one," a sunny blond grins, while prodding the body he just dropped to the ground with a foot.

Distantly Sam recognises the other crazy bastard who'd been responsible for him ending up in this situation. Later he really has to wonder about the fact that there was only two of them, because him and Dean should have been able to handle two normal, albeit crazy, humans. Right now though, Sam can't quite believe his eyes.

Because the sight of black and white and crimson blood on sharp steel had been disturbing. And maybe it's strange that in his crazy world of supernatural monsters, the sight of what at seems completely human freaks him out a whole hell of a lot more than any monster does. But what he's looking at now manages to disturb him even more.

It might be the cheerfulness, combined with the dead body. The laughter dancing in sky blue eyes and the amused grin seem completely out of place. And it doesn't help at all that the blond's black cargo pants have garishly orange seams and that the t-shirt under his black jacket is the same bright colour.

Sam doesn't remember ever seeing that shade of bright orange on anyone outside of Halloween. It just seems somehow fundamentally _wrong_, in a way Sam can't begin to explain, for someone who was just carrying a dead body to wear that shade of hurt-my-eyes orange.

"Really, Dean," the blond continues cheerfully. "What did you need us for? You could have taken care of this on your own. Not that we mind giving you hand with this, we were here anyway, but it's not like you needed us." The blond whines slightly as he walks up to Dean and _pokes at him._

A part of Sam's mind is busy noticing things like the fact that the blond is _short_, which is suddenly very noticeable now that he's standing right next to Dean, and his English is slightly accented in a way that Sam automatically connects with something Asian. Mostly though Sam is starting to suspect that he's probably still unconscious and this is some really strange dream. Maybe he should start worrying about his own sanity.

"Right, bastard?" The blond continues on just as cheerful as ever, glancing toward the black haired kid. "Dean could have handled this on his own, couldn't he?"

"Hn." Is all the noise the other kid makes and… Sam blinks as he looks towards the black-and-white kid with more attention. Where did the _katana_ go? There's no edged weapons to be seen anywhere and the kid is looking at the blond and if there's any sort of expression on that face it might be faintly annoyed, but Sam can't really tell.

Dean doesn't seem to be listening though, as he bends down to cut away the ropes binding Sam to the stake. That doesn't really make sense either. A stake? But right now Sam is more than willing to let it go. They had been dealing with two crazy people after all and Sam wasn't _that_ up to speed on demon summoning. And he's pretty sure neither were the two trying to do the actual summoning.

"You okay Sammy?" his brother asks as the ropes fall away.

Sam rubs at his wrists and nods. "Yeah, I'm fine." He doesn't doubt that his brother can hear the relief and gratitude that once again goes unmentioned.

He looks at the two other people. They're both looking at him and the blond has fallen silent and is smiling quietly, quite a difference from the earlier over energetic cheerfulness. And he can't read anything into the dark haired kid's blank expression, which is unnerving in itself.

"You've got some explaining to do though," he tells his brother.

"I thought I might need some help," Dean shrugs. And Sam knows Dean isn't one to go for help without a good reason (or at all), not for his own sake anyway.

As they walk past the dead bodies Sam can't help but look. They're _human_.

"They were about to kill you Sammy," Dean says in a tone that Sam recognises. There's no use arguing with that tone, not that Sam doesn't sometimes anyway, but he knows it's useless.

When he looks away from the body the two kids are already gone.


	16. Home Is Where the Heart Is

  
**Home Is Where the Heart Is,**   
_And other things I'll never say_   


 

Sam is sleeping. Dean has successfully avoided giving any real explanations of what happened. For the time being. He knows Sam will start nagging again tomorrow. He knew when he asked for the help that he couldn't avoid giving Sam some sort of explanation. Eventually.

And yeah, it isn't like Naruto was wrong. Dean probably could have taken care of the situation on his own. And he really doesn't want to explain this whole thing to Sam, because Sam won't understand and there are things Dean won't tell his little brother. Really, this thing between him and those two isn't something Dean wants to think about too much. Not in detail.

But Dean had known the two weren't far away and Sammy had been in danger, from regular humans of all things, and there was no way in hell that he was risking something going wrong, because Sammy wasn't dying on his watch. If there was something he could do that made sure of that, well… So he'd asked them, because they were there and if something did go wrong and he hadn't asked… Yeah, it really hadn't been a very hard choice.

There's nothing Dean wouldn't do for Sammy, but the cold, hard fact is that Dean's never killed a human being and no matter what he says to Sam, he knows it isn't as easy as all that. If it comes down to it he'll do what he has to, he knows that and if it's a question of Sammy's life he'll do whatever it takes. But if Dean hesitates on the wrong moment, well that's all that's needed for things to get completely fucked and Dean isn't sure if he can kill a human without flinching and with Sammy's life on the line it sure as hell isn't the time to be wrong.

So if Dean knows someone, two of them in fact, who can and will kill without any hesitation and if asking them for help is a sure way of keeping Sammy alive, well it's not like he needs to think about it. After all, he'd do anything to make sure Sammy's okay.

Dean didn't kill those two crazy assholes, but he might as well have pulled the trigger himself for all the difference it makes. It was his decision and it wasn't made in the heat of the moment or as some last resort after he'd tried everything else. There's no excuses or explanations for this one, other than the fact Dean decided they needed to die, because compared to Sam they meant less than nothing. He doesn't feel guilty about it; they were going to kill Sammy. They got what was coming for them.

Still, Dean doesn't feel much like sleeping. That has more to do with almost losing Sam than anything else.

He looks at his sleeping brother in the other bed. In the end all Sam ended up with was a very mild concussion, which really isn't anything to worry about.

Dean decides he might as well check his weapons, since there isn't much else to do, when he hears a very quiet scuff. He turns towards the sound, still on edge from all that's gone down today.

He's not really worried; they warded the motel room just fine. Of course that isn't any sort of defence against people.

Dean's not entirely surprised when he sees the black and orange wearing blond standing casually next to the window. The noise had been entirely intentional and Dean doesn't even bother wondering how the blond got in.

He gives the room a once over, but Naruto seems to be alone. Of course that doesn't really mean anything.

Naruto just grins at him and nods towards the door. Dean can't help but smile at how much of an effort it has to be for Naruto to keep his mouth shut.

Dean shrugs in answer and picks up his jacket before quietly following outside, because he kind of really needs to do something, anything, right now.

"He'll look after Sammy, right?" Dean asks when they're outside and he doesn't need to think about being quiet for his brother's sake.

"Yeah," the blond confirms. "Little baby brother is going to be fine, but I don't think the bastard will sing him any lullabies if he starts having a nightmare."

Dean really wants to wipe that grin off his friends face. "Like you're one to talk," he growls instead trying to pretend that he can't feel his cheeks heating with a blush.

The blond just grins unrepentantly. "Ah, but I like lullabies," he admits easily. "Well I haven't heard more than one, but it's nice."

Dean doesn't really want to think about the implications of that statement, especially since he already has a pretty good idea. It's not like the blond sounded upset about it anyway. Naruto is pretty good at staying away from any seriously chick flick moments most of the time.

"So, do you have anywhere in mind?"

"Anyplace with beer is good," Dean shrugs and heads for the Impala.

He'll be back before Sammy wakes up.

* * *

It's not much of a bar. No pool table, no pretty waitresses, but there is beer and a quiet side table to sit at and the music doesn't grate at his nerves. Of course Naruto got carded, because he doesn't look anywhere close to twenty one. As far as Dean knows he might actually be old enough, because he's known the kid for a few years and he's always looked pretty much the same. Dean's never asked about it.

Not that it makes any difference since Naruto does have an ID that says he's old enough to drink and that's enough for everyone concerned. It's completely fake of course, but Dean's hardly one to care. Naruto isn't even drinking any alcohol, instead he's nursing some cheap cup of tea, or whatever passes for it here, while Dean is already on his third beer.

Dean's seen the kid drink. Enough hard liquor to have anyone in a hospital getting their stomach pumped and the kid had looked about what Dean feels like after a few beers. He can see where it wouldn't be worth the effort and the kid insists he just doesn't like the taste of most kinds of alcohol anyway.

"You're being quiet," Dean tells him. He knows the kid well enough and Naruto is rarely quiet for long.

Naruto rubs the back of his neck and gives him an apologetic sort of grin. "Yeah," he admits. "Sorry about that. I'm supposed to be cheering you up and all, but…" he trails off and gives Dean a strangely hesitant look.

"So what's wrong?" Dean doesn't bother to say anything about the cheering him up part, even he knows that's the reason they're here. That's just Naruto for you. Dean would prefer to call it something less lame and pathetic, but it's still the truth.

"Eh… it's nothing really," Naruto says sounding entirely unconvincing. But Dean isn't about to contradict him, if Naruto doesn't want to talk about whatever is bothering him Dean is completely fine with that.

"You'd do anything for your brother, right," Naruto says quietly after a moment and Dean isn't sure if that's supposed to be a question or an observation. Whatever it is, it sounds almost pleading and that's not something he's used to hearing from Naruto. Not like that; quiet and desperate.

He shrugs, there isn't much to say to that; the answer is beyond obvious. The thing that lead to them sitting here trying to cheer Dean up, as Naruto so nicely put it, should be proof enough of that.

"Even after he left you?"

If this was any other time Dean would probably snap at him, tell him that he should know the answer to that better than most people. But if this was any other time Naruto wouldn't have asked and would never sound like that.

"Even then," Dean says quietly. And even now he feels a flash of hot anger. He clenches his fists and almost tells Naruto to mind his own fucking business.

Naruto isn't accusing him of anything, he reminds himself. He wouldn't. There's no blame in Naruto's voice, it's just a question. One he never expected to hear from the kid, but still just a question.

He drains his beer instead.

"I'm not drunk enough for this," he mutters.

Naruto smiles at that, brief and quiet and not at all his normal excited grin. For a moment Dean thinks that maybe this is more honest, but everyone has their secrets and Dean respects that.

"You don't have to answer," Naruto tells him, honest blue eyes looking into his own.

This is one of the things (and there are a lot of them) that Dean doesn't talk about. Sam and Dean just _are_ and it's better not to go poking at that, not even inside your own head. Nothing good will come of it.

The first real thing he ever learnt about his two friends is that he doesn't want to figure them out. He doesn't want to think too deeply about everything they are. Dean can accept it, if he doesn't think about it too much and he's good at not thinking about things.

Right now there's something in Naruto's bright blue eyes that Dean has never seen there before and it scares the hell out of him. It's something broken and desperate and it's always been there, hidden deep behind the cheerful sparkle of those eyes. Dean has never wanted to see it, because if he ever thought about it he knew Naruto was broken a long time ago.

He was broken and made into something different. Just like Dean with the way he was raised, but so fucking completely different that it's not funny at all.

"Just get me another beer," Dean says, because some debts can't ever be repaid and even if he never lets himself think about it, Dean knows how much he owes Naruto.

"So?" The blond prompts as he puts the beer down in front of Dean.

Dean tries to ignore his annoyance and the automatic reaction to throw out an insult.

"Yeah, I wanted Sammy back. He's my brother," he says instead and it's harder than he thought. "I always kind of thought he'd come back eventually, once he realised that all that normal life crap wasn't for him. And… I was mad as hell at him for leaving, but I could wait till he figured things out." Dean closes his eyes and tries to pretend it hadn't hurt like all fucking hell when his brother had abandoned him, that it didn't still hurt. "But he didn't. He never even called and…" He puts down his beer before he breaks the glass. "I was gonna to let him stay in his god damned normal life when we got back from that hunt. If he thought that was gonna make him happy…" Dean really wants to hit something right this fucking minute. "Fuck, it wasn't like I could stop him. But then Jess died and suddenly Sammy's back, but…" Dean looks away, he fucking well hates trying to explain this.

"But it's not the same," Naruto all but whispers.

"No," Dean agrees quietly. And Dean can pretend all he wants when he's around Sam, but he knows that it's true. Things will never be like they used to, because Sammy isn't the way he used to be.

He knew he shouldn't have started talking about this.

"I know how to go back." Naruto's voice is quiet and carefully blank. Dean's head whips back towards the blond.

Naruto's face is just as blank, like he's trying very hard not to feel anything about what he just said.

"That's what this is about," Dean says in realisation and doesn't sound much at all like his heart is breaking again. Damn, he's gotten good at that.

Naruto nods and still tries to look like this isn't tearing him apart inside.

"So, when are you leaving?" He asks and makes an effort to sound casual.

"I… we…" Naruto fumbles. "Sasuke doesn't know yet," he says at last in a rough whisper.

Considering this talk they've been having, that isn't much of a surprise and now Dean knows what it's been about. Naruto isn't sure they should go back and Dean can understand why. Some of it anyway.

Dean doesn't know all that much, because both of them seem to keep secrets by instinct. They'll tell him personal details and stories about friends and team mates, but there are never really any names or places or anything at all specific. But they've never tried to hide that where they come from, whatever the reasons for the fighting or whoever's right or wrong, those two aren't on the same side.

Dean wouldn't even want to imagine what it'd feel like if Sam ever became the enemy. Not because of something supernatural, but just because he wants to. Because one of them just decides that that's how things have to be. He can't imagine circumstances where that would ever happen. So yeah, he understands why Naruto wouldn't want to go back, but by now he knows Naruto. Knows that whatever is going on in their world, Naruto thinks it's his responsibility to go back. Dean can understand that too.

"He'll kill you if he ever finds out you're keeping that from him. He doesn't want to stay here." And Dean doesn't want to be the one to talk Naruto into leaving. He wants to be selfish and tell Naruto to forget all of it and stay.

"I know. I _know_." Naruto looks at him with broken blue eyes. "He'll never come back. This is the closest I'll ever come to bringing him home and…" Large, quiet tears roll down Naruto's cheeks. Dean isn't sure the blond even notices. "It's different here. I keep thinking that maybe if I just wait he'll learn to be happy and forget all about revenge, but I know he won't. I understand, I do. He has the right to be angry, but…" Naruto tries to dry some of the tears away, but it isn't having much of an effect. "I don't want to kill him," he whispers sadly. "If he's here…" Naruto closes his eyes and bows his head, tears still escaping from under his closed eyelids.

Dean feels frozen in place. Now he sort of wishes he hadn't had those beers, no matter that it made talking easier.

He'd been wrong. Naruto isn't thinking about staying at all.

He feels like he's moving in slow motion as he gets up and reaches over to pull Naruto into a hug. The blond doesn't struggle at all and seems content to rest his head against Dean's chest as he sobs quietly.

Dean's not the kind to go around hugging people and definitely not in a place like this where he can feel the people staring at them. But this is different and this is Naruto. You get used to a certain amount of hugging around him.

"He'd never forgive you," Dean points out.

He feels Naruto's shoulders lift slightly in what might be a shrug. "Right," Dean says. There's not much chance of Sasuke ever forgiving anyone for anything and no matter what Naruto decides Sasuke's lack of forgiveness will be the inevitable result.

It doesn't take long before Naruto seems to gather himself. He pulls away from Dean and looks up.

"Sorry for this," Naruto says with a wave of his hand. He smiles in a pale imitation of his usual grin. "I'm being selfish. I know. Sasuke deserves to go back as much as I do. I'll tell him tonight." There's a determined nod and it's like all the earlier uncertainty had never been there.

Dean has no idea how Naruto reached that conclusion or if he somehow helped. It'd be easier if Dean knew he didn't help, but he probably did. Now that Naruto's made up his mind they're as good as gone. And Dean can't look at those blue eyes anymore.

He turns away and walks out of the bar.

He doesn't get more than a few steps out the door before Naruto is at his side. The blond grabs his arm and Dean stops and looks at him, he doesn't have much of a choice.

"I'm sorry Dean." And there's something in the sky blue eyes and the tone of voice that says that Naruto _understands_. Dean doesn't want to think about it. Not now. Not ever.

"We should get back," Dean says.


	17. On the Road Again

  
**On the Road Again,**   
_As it always was_   


Sam is driving. He's not really sure why, because Sam driving the car is still kind of a big deal. He gets to drive the Impala nowadays, at least sometimes, but it's rare enough that he can still name each occasion that he's been behind the wheel.

He has no idea where they're going. When he'd woken up Dean had been all set to leave. He'd almost seemed anxious to get going and Sam only offered up a token argument. The only thing Dean had really said to that was to ask Sam if he was good to drive. That wasn't really like Dean at all, but okay, yesterday had been bad in so many ways that Sam didn't say anything about it. Not when his head still felt addled with sleep and the lingering traces of a headache.

Really, Sam didn't mind leaving, he wasn't exactly fond of the town after everything. Besides being offered to drive the car was still a novelty and made his gut clench a bit because he knew that it was Dean's way of saying all the things he'd never put into words. Sam takes what he can get when it comes to Dean. So he'd told Dean that he was fine to drive. After all, all he really had to show from the whole experience was a few bruises.

So Sam drives. There's no destination, no new hunt waiting for them at the end. There's no word of their still missing dad, no place at all they need to go and all they're doing is driving away. But it's not the first time they're doing that, because sometimes you just need to get away. And sooner or later something will come up, until then just going somewhere is good enough.

He looks over at Dean and his brother still looks like he hasn't slept all night. Sam's pretty sure he hasn't and that's a whole lot less okay. Right now Dean is sitting in the all too quiet car and staring out the side window. Sam can't see the expression on his brother's face, but then that's probably the point.

Sam hasn't stopped thinking about yesterday, because he damn well wants to know what the hell all of that was. He'd want to know anyway, but right now he sort of really wants to know because none of it seems to add up to Dean acting like this.

"So, who were the kids?" Sam asks.

Because that's the thing that doesn't fit. The crazy would be demon worshipers that didn't seem to know the first thing about summoning demons, weren't really that far from the Winchester version of normal. Sam being in danger is usual enough and people dying isn't that out of the ordinary either, not really, even if he wishes it was. Maybe Dean is feeling guilty about it, but Sam doesn't think so because Dean would hide that better.

"They didn't exactly look like hunters." Sam has never really met all that many hunters. As a kid he'd seen a few others when their dad had some business with them, but he has a good enough idea what hunters are usually like.

Hunters are definitely not blond kids with bright smiles and too much energy. They're not monochromatic teenagers with dead eyes who move faster than Sam can see.

"No, they were ninjas," his brother says, sarcasm dripping from the words. "What do you think they were, Sammy?"

Then Dean turns the music on, as loud as he can. After that conversation is pretty much impossible.

* * *

He stands in the middle of the small clearing in the forest. The sunlight reflecting of the slightly scratched metal of the hitai-ate clutched in his hands blinds him for a moment. Slowly he raises it to his forehead and ties it into place.

After so many years without it, the feel of cloth against his forehead feels strange. Out of place.

He looks up, slow and reluctant. Like the hitai-ate had added too much weight for his movements to be easy.

There's a dark form standing in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

Their eyes meet, sky blue and dark, dark gray.

It's too far away to bee completely sure, but he thinks an ever so slight smile lurks at the edges of the other's lips. The distance doesn't stop him from seeing when red blooms in those dark eyes. Maybe he was looking for it.

His own eyes close briefly. When he opens them he's alone.

He takes a deep breath, turns around and takes off into the branches and heads towards home. Hopefully he hasn't been away too long.

A deep, satisfied, blood tinged laugh rumbles inside his mind.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that there's a lot of questions left unanswered, but the point of the story was always to let people draw their own conclusions about what really happened. I guess that's part of the slightly lame name for this whole thing. Read between the lines? ^^;
> 
> So obviously when it comes to the relationships between the characters I was being purposefully ambiguous. This is written as a gen fic, obviously the thing about Jess is a bit tricky, but as long as I'm just implying things, well… people can still figure out an answer that they'll be most comfortable with. There's no right answers to any of it. I'm really not trying to imply anything here, but personally I tend to have a slight preference to slash, a thing for threesomes and polyamory, open relationships seem completely reasonable, I kind of like crossdressing and don't really mind gender bending and don't find long relationships without any sex all that believable. So if it seems like I'm hinting at something, well I might be and it might also be completely accidental.
> 
> I'm being annoyingly vague about the Naruto timeline, but the truth of it is that just don't know enough to place this anywhere in specific and since this doesn't take place in that world I can be vague about it. But, yeah I've no clue. Also, I'm firmly of the opinion that travelling between worlds… yeah time doesn't necessarily align perfectly between them or who's to say that when you're skipping from one world to another, why couldn't you do it through time too? So, I'm not saying anything at all about how long Naruto and Sasuke were gone from their world.
> 
> I really tried not to contradict cannon (if I did, that's because I don't know the cannon well enough), the idea being that after this both series go on to happen exactly like they do. So this was always how the story had to end, it couldn't have a happy ending and the ninjas certainly couldn't stay. It's not a story that's meant to change anything, it's kind of meant to be about finding whatever happiness you can even when things are completely fucked, even when you know it won't last. Something like that.
> 
> If the story hadn't had to end like this, there's so many things I might have liked to explore. I was asked if the fact that Sam loved Jess means that he would/could fall in love with Naruto, seeing as in this story Naruto is Jess (that's one story I'd like to read). But I don't know the answer and it would have been interesting to find out. Just like I kind of would have liked to find out what Dean tells Sam about all of this or what would happen if Sam found out the truth. But it just wasn't possible in this story.
> 
> So, thanks to everyone who's been reading. Again. I hope you enjoyed the story (and if you didn't I think it's really weird that you're reading this). For my part it's been an interesting experience and at least I had fun. :)


End file.
